


always at your six

by mantisbelle



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Background Relationships, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Multi, Slow Burn, Transhumanism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-03-08 06:45:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 37,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13452717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mantisbelle/pseuds/mantisbelle
Summary: The Mother of Invention went down barely a year ago, and the time in between has been rough for York and Delta. It's been tough for Tex too, but she has information, and she needs someone to help her get some things before someone can beat her to it.It's a good thing York's out of work.





	1. the joker and the thief

**Author's Note:**

> This is the single most self-indulgent thing that I have ever written in my life and I absolutely refuse to apologize for it. 
> 
> Anyways, I’ve always been really interested on the potential of the human/ai relationship, and then how that would play in with other ai and robotic bodies and... then this happened.

At close to ten at night on a frigid Saturday night, York was  _ tired.  _ The sort of bone-deep, ready-to-drop-dead exhaustion that made doing much of  _ anything _ feel impossible.

There were a lot of things about life on the run that he didn’t like. He didn’t like that he’d spent almost all day dodging the police, or the owner of a shop he’d had to burgle the night before, or the guy that owned the rotting building he’d been squatting in for a few weeks. 

Resting was good when he could manage it, but when the space he had to rest in was far from anything that could be considered even remotely livable and he only had Delta for company, well-.    
  
Yeah, so it wasn't exactly much of a stretch to figure out why he felt like he needed a drink, or a shot of morphine in his veins, or something to make him feel a little bit more human than the husk that he feels like he’s been. Never mind that his eye had been giving him trouble all day, or that he hadn't been able to stop thinking about Freelancer for long enough to concentrate on much of anything. He couldn't really even act like he was okay anymore, not really.    
  
Mostly, he was really damn tired.    
  
And he needed a drink.    
  
‘ _ This coping mechanism is unwise,’ _ Delta tells him with an unpleasant hum that almost starts to feel like it's resonating down York's spine. It comes with an involuntary twitch of one of the muscles at the back of his neck. It was never enough to show, but York knew well enough that it was one of Delta's favorite ways of showing he was serious. ‘ _ Without your mental faculties fully intact-’ _   
  
"It's just one drink, D." York mutters as he dips into the alleyway. Can't afford to look like he's a crazy person or something, talking to people that aren’t there. And going around claiming that he has any sort of AI in his head is capital D dumb. He's out of armor besides, no way for Delta to show his presence or project or anything like that. Not that any of those things would do anything to make their situation better. "It'll be fine."    
  
_ ‘Probabilities-’ _ _  
_   
"It's a big galaxy." York groans as he reaches into his jacket pocket, fishing around there for his lighter and a pack of cigaettes. At least he can try to take the edge off. "Nobody's gonna find us out here."    
  
_ ‘I still believe that this is unwise.’ _   
  
"One beer and we'll be out of there." York says, feeling some exasperation. Delta picks up on that, and only answers him with yet another unpleasant hum. "Don't make me pull you."    
  
_ ‘I simply do not support this course of action’ _ Delta states before pulling back, zipping away along York's neural pathways to rest in his chip for the time being. York doubts that it'll last for long. Delta has a bit of a habit of butting in where he doesn’t need to be. It’s one of their few shared traits.   
  
But, peace was peace and York was going to let himself enjoy it while he had the chance. He pocketed the pack of cigarettes since it seemed like he didn't need to play like he was hiding out in an alleyway to smoke anymore. Instead, he made his way out of the alley and towards the bar before pulling the door open.    
  
It was, by all means, far from a good bar. It was far from the nightclub out on Reach where he'd gotten the lighter, where he’d met-

Bad train of thought, York scolded himself. He needed to focus on the there and now. Not before. Not when it left him feeling even worse. 

The bar was the sort of place where there were probably rats in the kitchens and nobody cared either way. The kind of place that served pretzels so that they could legally be allowed to operate. The kind of place where all of the furniture was clearly branded for some alcohol company one way or another- Redds Star, or Blue’s Best, or something.    
  
For York, there was something about the inherent diveyness of the bar that made it feel almost homey. It was the sort of place where he would have once drank and passed out in the bathroom in many years before, three names ago and when he was a younger man. Back when he still had two eyes and his head was still single occupancy.    
  
There was that twitch at the back of his neck again, Delta's very own special way of saying  _ I heard that. _   
  
York shivers, trying his best to shake the sensation off before walking up to the bar and sliding into a seat at the far corner, where he could get a good view of the room. It doesn't take long before he has a cheap beer from a blue can and a small basket of pretzels in front of him.    
  
It feels like a meal for a king, all things considered. Pretty much the only days where York gets to eat a proper meal are the ones where he feels desperate enough to stick his fingers in places they don't belong. He'd hoped to leave petty theft behind when he joined Freelancer, but life didn't like it that way and York had to deal with that.    
  
He did his best not to. Instead, he'd go to bars like this one and hustle people at pool while using Delta to cheat because really, the two of them were so integrated at that point that it wasn't like people could even  _ tell _ that it was Delta zipping up and down his nervous system instead of him in control. They couldn’t tell that York was getting exact angles and trajectories going through his head at any given second.    
  
As long as he didn't take on Delta's clipped tone when he talked, York was fine. Even if he might have ended up much more tired than normal because of it.    
  
York lets himself enjoy his drink. When the door opens with the sound of a quiet bell, he tries not to jolt his head up too much every time like he's checking for enemies. The last thing he needs is people having eyes on him, or figuring out that he’s paranoid.    
  
A woman enters the bar. She's out of armor, blonde hair and a face that's a little too familiar for York’s liking.    
  
She looks up and she sees him, and that's when York realizes that something was wrong. She begins to stalk towards him, in a way that manages to feel almost aggressive before dropping into the seat beside him at the bar.    
  
York glances over at her out of the corner of his eye. She'd sat on his right, and that alone was something to think about. He shrugs and drinks from his beer before speaking up.    
  
"Do I know you?" He asks, setting his drink back down in front of him.    
  
"You might." She responds. Her voice is familiar, and Delta's started to buzz in the back of York's head in that way that always manages to drive York crazy, and yeah, that's her for sure. "York."   
  
He smiles. "Allison." He responds, and is rewarded with another muscle twitch as a response. Delta's not happy about any of this, already bombarding York with commands for them to leave and get out before this can escalate. York tries to ignore it and continues. "Or is it Tex right now?"   
  
"Tex." She replies, hailing the bartender quickly and ordering two beers. One for each of them, and that's something that York wasn't expecting.    
  
He tries to mask his concerns and decides to do what he's the best at- talk.   
  
"Is it time for our yearly check-up?" He asks, picking up a few pretzels. "I promise I'm healthy."    
  
"You know I don't believe that shit, York," she responds, leaning forward against the counter with crossed arms. "I'm curious what you're doing out here though."    
  
"Oh you know," York sighs. "Drinking, working a desk job, jaywalking." He drinks from his new glass once it's there in front of him. "Nothing new."    


Tex rolled her eyes, and York couldn't help the slight frown that slipped across his face as a response to it. "You don't believe me?"   
  
"No," Tex said, not laughing but smiling in that way that managed to always look bemused. "You're just a shit liar. Always have been."    
  
York sighed and leaned forward against the counter, trying his best to relax and make himself more comfortable. "Yeah, well..." His voice trailed off, and his good eye flicked away from the woman at his side.    
  
_ ‘This situation is not suitable’ _ Delta told him, and York rolled his eye and tried to ignore it.    
  
"Point is." York muttered as he drank from his glass once more. "It hasn't been great."    
  
Tex nodded and leaned back in her seat more. "You always come out here to drink?"    
  
"Nah," York said with a shrug. "Normally I look for company or hustle a pool table or something."    
  
The bartender shot him a look as a response. York just looked back at the man with a look that managed to say  _ are you really surprised _ and relaxed only once the attention was back away from himself.    
  
"Right." Tex muttered. "How about you and I finish our drinks, and then we can talk."    
  
_ ‘It would appear that Agent Texas has come seeking our assistanc _ e,’ Delta said calmly, and York couldn't help but to shiver slightly.  _ ‘However, leaving yourself vulnerable to an attack from her in this way would be unwise. In combat, the chances of success against Agent Texas are miniscule. _ ’   
  
York grimaced, knowing that he was probably looking down at the table weird like he always did when he was talking to Delta. The only thing was that because the bar was a public place and he didn't want to come of as a crazy person, York wasn't going to respond.    
  
"Sounds good." York said, finishing off his drink and leaning against the counter. "I'm sure that you'll like my place. It's pretty good. Penthouse apartment."    
  
"Why do I doubt that?" Tex asked. "You never did have good taste."    
  
"Hey!" York exclaimed, feeling some offense for the comment. "I always had good taste."    
  
"Nah," Tex replied. "I think you lost it along with that eye of yours."    
  
_ ‘It would appear that Agent Texas is trying to antagonize you. _ ’ Delta explained, still hanging there in the back of York's head in that way that managed to be almost comforting. York rolled his eye again.    
  
"You didn't know me before I lost my eye." York commented as he stood up, pulling his jacket back on. "But, I won't pretend like I would hate some extra company tonight. My roomate’s a bit of a prick."    
  
_ ‘York, this course of action is unwise.’ _ _  
_   
Tex smirked and downed the rest of her drink in one go before heading to the door with York. He pulled the door open for her and almost expected a punch for it when he held it, but Tex just gave him a look and made her way through before York followed his way out.    
  
The two of them didn't get far from the bar before York allowed himself to speak up again. "So," He asked. "What brings you looking for little old me anyways, Allison?" York asked.    
  
"I definitely wouldn't say it's your personality." Tex responded, rolling her eyes and shoving her hands down into her pockets. "I'm here because I need some help with something. I figured you or your little friend would be able to help."    
  
York got a pulse and a humming noise in his ears that he recognized as Delta's way of showing  _ excitement. _   
  
And yeah, it wouldn't have been the first time that Delta's little crush had come to the forefront in a conversation with Tex.

The first time had been barely a day or two after York had ended up with the AI in the first place. While York had been doing his best to go through the integration process and adapt to having another voice in his head, Delta had taken great interest in just about every everyone but York it had felt like.    
  
It hadn’t taken long at all for the AI to figure out that he was able to go rooting around in York’s memories, and once he’d figured that out it was done. York was suddenly having weird thoughts about Tex, or about Carolina, or even about some of the other agents around the project. All feelings and thoughts that weren’t his own, and yeah,  _ that  _ had gotten to be a bit much after a little while.    
  
Not that York ever let anyone else know that he was having that sort of problem with Delta on top of all of the other stuff. He needed to be focusing on headaches, not on what felt like Delta having a crush on Tex of all people.    
  
Now that York was out walking the streets with Tex and Delta and nobody else, he didn't quite know what to do. He couldn't exactly pretend like he hadn't missed her at all, because he had. Quite a bit, really.    
  
After all, what kind of guy would he be if he committed mutiny with a girl and immediately forgot about her, or never answered her calls? Not a good one, at least that was what York thought. It was the romantic in him- you don't just go and do something like that unless there was some sort of feeling attached to it. As weird as it may have seemed.   
  
But that isn't what York needs to be thinking about, he reminds himself as the three of them get closer to the apartment. Tex was there because he needed something from him, and he is going to find out what she needs even if it kills him.   
  
Tex is the first one to come and look for him in what feels like forever. York knows he won't say it out loud, and he's sure that Delta knows it too, but that alone inspires quite a bit of loyalty in him.    
  
But there's no time to think about that, because York is kneeling down in front of the door to his apartment and beginning to pick the lock as is routine. Usually once the owner figures out that someone is squatting in their building, he has to get back in the old fashioned way. The good thing is that after the incident with Wyoming he didn't lose his way with the old fashioned mechanical locks.    
  
"So this is your place?" Tex asks. She's there at York's six, kicking something over while she waits for him to get it open. "I thought you said that you had a place of your own."   
  
York just shrugs. "I didn't really specify, to be fair." He says calmly as he twists the doorknob and forces the way in for the two of them. Lucky for him, the apartment is just the way that he'd left it: more or less a complete dump, but whoever had cleared it out hadn't done a very good job since the strip of tape on the ceiling is still there where he'd hidden his armor away.   
  
Safe and sound, just like he'd left it.

Instead of lingering on it, York whorled around and gestured to the space around him as he retreated a bit deeper into the apartment. “Welcome to my humble abode.” He said calmly, smiling and dropping his hands back to his side. “If I’d known that I would have company I would have tried to clean up a little bit.”   
  
Tex just shot him a deeply unimpressed look that made York frown.    
  
_ ‘It would appear that Agent Texas does not find your living in poverty charming.’ _   
  
“Yeah, I kind of got that, D.” York muttered under his breath, radiating annoyance.   
  
"Delta's talking to you?" Tex asked, deciding to step into the apartment finally and pulling the door shut behind her. She stretched and decided to make herself comfortable, dropping down onto the worn out box spring matress on the floor.   
  
"Yeah, it's a curse." York said as he walked towards the ammo box that made up most of his furniture. He slid it about a foot and a half to the left until he was under a specific ceiling panel before he stepped up on top of it and slid the panel out of the way. "He doesn't think I'm cute."   
  
"Can't really blame him for that." Tex quipped, leaning back in her seat. "I do really need your help with something though."   
  
"Yeah, I got that." York mumbled as he stepped back down with his helmet in his hands. He didn't think that he needed it for any protectional purposes, but having a way for Delta to be able to project wouldn't hurt. At the very least it would mean that he could stop sounding like he was just talking to himself. "It wouldn't hurt to know some of the details though."   
  
Tex sighed and shrugged, leaning back on the bed and resting her back against the wall behind her. "I need help getting into a place." She said, almost sounding completely distance in the process. "For work purposes."   
  
York paused, because somehow the idea that Tex might have found work somehow had never occured to him. If anything, it inspired a pang of jealousy that came accompanied by a twitch, courtesy of Delta.    
  
"Work, huh?" York asked. "Think you could get me a job?" It spills out before York even gets a chance to think about it, and that is a problem because while Tex can easily see that he is just managing to survive, telegraphing exactly how desperate he is still is a bad idea. After all, York knows that Tex could not only beat him easily, but she could also kill him even easier.    
  
Tex rolled her eyes though. "You should try handing out resumes instead of relying on connections, York."     
  
York shrugged and made his way over to the mattress, because it isn't like he has anywhere else where he would be able to get comfortable. “You know, my dad always said that work was all about who you know instead of what you know.” He sets the helmet down between the two of them for Delta's sake, but can't help the feeling of disappointment that he gets as a result of the distance that he had no choice but to place between himself and Tex.    
  
Tex isn't human and he knows that. He knows that she isn't the type to want to stay up late for grilled cheese sandwiches or to want to cuddle or talk about feelings. That's not Tex stuff, and goddamn if York doesn't feel like he needs those things.    
  
But Tex is the one that's there, not somebody else.    
  
And she is willing to be somewhat close to him.    


York can't pretend as though there is nothing about that which is tempting. He can't pretend as though he doesn't want to reach out for Tex and pull her in close and wrap her around him so that he can feel something akin to a human touch. She isn't the real thing, and god if York doesn't know that.    
  
But still, he longs for her.   
  
_ ‘I suspect that Agent Texas would find these thoughts of yours unbecoming, Agent York.’ _   
  
"It's just York," He mumbles, tilting his head back so that it can rest against the cool wall behind him. The cold hasn't exactly been York's friend lately, the same way that the weather or his wallet haven't been. It probably doesn't bother Tex.    
  
"I know your damn name, York." Tex says, looking at him like he has two heads.    
  
York wants to say something, but before he gets a chance to Delta decides to intervene, the little bastard.    
  
"Agent York appears to be suffering from a fit of madness." Delta begins his introduction, the green little cockbite. "You really must excuse him."   
  
York groaned and picked his hands up, pressing them over his eyes because he really doesn't want to have this conversation. Tex knows plenty about him, sure, but she doesn't need to know that he's been anywhere near as lonely as he really has been. That's York's business, and while he isn't alone on a tehnical level, Delta isn't the same as someone he can see face to face when he talks to them, and he can’t touch Delta.    
  
Tex though, she doesn't let what Delta just said slip by. She turns her head to glance at York, and he can't do much to stop the groan that escapes him. "What's the damage, York? You know I know you're a bad liar."   
  
But again, before York gets a chance to respond, Delta is taking the lead because he can read York's mind and this is his best chance to talk to the girl he likes.    
  
The asshole.   
  
"Agent York has been suffering from chronic feelings of loneliness since the crash of the--"   
  
"That's enough, Delta." York mutters, just loud enough that he  _ knows _ that the other two can hear him. "C'mon, let the guy live in shame in peace."   
  
"Aww, York, have you been missing me?" Tex leans in towards him, not much care being paid towards his personal space. He can't complain though, because just having someone that doesn't want to kill him there in his place is a luxury in itself. "You should have called."   
  
"York being able to make a call would have been unlikely." Delta quips, his projection glowing green in the space between the two of them.    
  
York doesn't say much at first, just pouting as he curls up in his spot on his bed. He pulled his knees in towards himself and wrapped his arms around himself in a hug. "Just... not many people to talk to, you know. Since." He glues his gaze to a spot on the floor, since looking Tex in the eyes at the moment feels like it hurt a little too much. "And it isn't like D is a real boy that I can hug or cuddle or…” York shakes the thought before it can go much further than it already has. It’s already gone too far.

Tex is quiet for a minute that stretches on for an eternity too long, and York can all but feel his dignity die down in the pit of his stomach. He’s said too much, things that he wouldn’t have ever dared to even utter back in Freelancer because it was just… strange. For different reasons than what he now knew Tex had ended up wrapped up in without a choice in the matter.    
  
York looks away from her because he can’t stand the feeling that he’s judging her for much longer. He’s drowning and normally, normally Delta would have been there to help. He would have taken control in whatever little way he wanted to and helped put York back into line for their own sake because when they’re out in the field or trying to work they can’t afford for York to start getting panicky when he hears grenades go off or start babbling when he realizes he might be in trouble.    
  
It feels like that, the staticy feeling that takes over when he’s feeling the pressure. The kind that makes focusing on picking locks hard and makes his vision blur worse than it would normally.    
  
Finally, Tex lets out a noise, closing her eyes and tilting her head back again. "You know that normal people would just make friends, York. Or pick someone up at the bar, how often are you there anyways?"   
  
York shrugs and lets his head dip low. "It isn't that easy." He mumbles. "Not when I can't trust that I won't have to uproot in a day or two and run off to somewhere else. Shit, just being here-" York gestures with the wave of an open hand to the rest of the apartment. "I should be out of here tonight since the guy that owns the place locked me out. If he gets a whiff that I'm still here, it'll be cops and then-" York shrugs, because Tex is smart enough that she should be able to figure out the rest of that story.    
  
Tex just shakes her head though. "Delta." She says, and York feels that annoying pulse in his head nanoseconds before Delta is projecting out in front of the two of them again, lime green and bright. The color shouldn't be comforting at all, but York has gotten used to the color being the closest to having a home as he's going to get. "Is this all true?"   
  
"I am afraid so." Delta responds, his voice still in that regular monotone of his that York has started to find to be calming. It doesn't have the same warmth that FILSS' did, but York  _ knew  _ Delta. He knew the sarcasm and the humor that the AI possessed, and that he had feelings and was so much more than a shredded piece of logic like he'd been wrongfully characterized as. 

That didn't mean that either of the two of them were good at having those feelings but for York just knowing that Delta was capable of emotions and could piece together social situations on his own was comforting. A safety net that he wasn't afraid to use. "Agent York and I have been doing our best to track Freelancer signals. We have changed base of operation on six different occasions this year, with an average of thirty four days between each move. There is a 78% probability that we will vacate the premises within three days in favor of a new location."

“So you two are homeless.” Tex comments, staring York down in a way that makes him want to shrink back. 

York shrugs, reaching for the pocket in his jacket and fiddling with a torn cardboard box of cigarettes. “I prefer vagabond.”

“So homeless.”

“Yeah,” York mumbles, lighting the cigarette that he’d taken out for himself. “Homeless.”

Just like that, the apartment goes all but completely silent, and York finds himself wishing that he could take back the entire night. If he'd wanted to, he could have theoretically been able to stay in the bar, play some pool and make some cash that way, and then he could have come home. He would have even gone grocery shopping in the morning- honest to god shopping, with the exchange of money for goods. Not wandering the aisles and seeing what he can slip into his pockets.   
  
But now Tex is there, and she knows just how bad things have been for him. York feels like he has never been colder. He's ashamed of himself, because this was nothing like what he would have wanted for his life to be like.    
  
"It's pretty damn pathetic, York." Tex says, and York shrinks back from it. He is ready to tell her to get out, to run her away from him. It won't work though, not when Tex can kick his ass in seventeen different ways without even thinking about it, not when she came to him looking for his help and-   
  
And he owes her.    
  
"I know." He mumbles, turning his head so that he doesn't have to look at her. Tex had chosen to take her seat on his right side, so York can't exactly play dumb. "I just... don't really want to talk about it. D and I get by. That's what matters."   
  
York closes his eyes, tilting his head back against the wall behind him. There's a gentle pulse through his body, one clearly given to him by Delta and that's something that York is grateful for.    
  
"Agent York has a surprisingly strong survival instinct." Delta's projection appears between them again, and York can all but feel the warm glow of him. "The last years have been difficult, and so your presence is welcome." Delta paused for just a moment, and York couldn't help but feel the intensity of his care. "Even if York may act like otherwise."

Really, it’s about the highest praise that Delta’s given York in ages, so he’s going to try and remember all of that for later. For his own sake. 

"Thanks, Delta." Tex says, and York can feel her shifting around beside him, actually getting a bit closer. So close that he can feel her synthetic skin against his own. She's warm, in that mechanical way and that's something that York doesn't mind at all. The warmth is what matters, and the contact. She wraps an arm over his shoulder, and York allows himself to lean in closer. "If you two really need it, I can stick around for a while for you idiots."   
  
"Not an idiot." York mumbles, turning his head so that its able to rest on her shoulder. "Just missed everyone."   
  
And yeah, he can't exactly act like just saying that doesn't break his heart at all. York thinks about them all constantly, even the ones that he didn't like at all. He wonders whether Wash is even  _ alive _ , whether the twins are still together or not. He wonders if Reggie ever got rid of his mustache, or how Florida is, or if Illinois ever got his boat. He wonders if he needs to worry about Maine at all on top of the people that are probably searching for him to bring him to justice.

He wonders about- 

He cuts the thought off before it can go any further and derail his mood.    
  
Tex shrugs, and it is enough to make York shift away slightly, but not by much. She stays close to him, keeping him there with the arm wrapped around his back. York hasn't felt so comfortable in such a long time. The fact that it's coming at the hands of someone that doesn't seem to know tenderness is surprising. "You haven't been left behind," she says, keeping her voice down and not moving any more than she needs to.    
  
"Never abandon your team." York gets the words out, barely able to cover up the slight bitter laugh that escaped him. "Right."    
  
It makes him reconsider. Tex is there for him. Tex needs his help and, Tex is the first honest to god friend that he has been able to spend any time around in a very long time. York sighs. "I'll help you." He mumbles. There is an uncomfortable pulse that rattles through his skull, and York can't help the wince.    
  
He hadn't been expecting for Delta to protest it at all, but it also isn't exactly like the AI has much of a choice. York squeezed his eyes shut, obvious discomfort showing and he only felt the sensation of Tex's hand travelling down his spine, slow and as gentle as she can manage.    
  
"Delta?" She asks.    
  
There is a moment where York could feel himself relax as Delta flashed up into the space between the two of them.    
  
"Agent Texas," Delta begins, his tone as stunted as it always was. "Without specific details with regards to this task, I am unable to calculate a tactical matrix, and Agent York's-" York shot the projection a glare, and felt a slight tightening of his muscles as a response from Delta, " _ methods _ of work are often inexact or incalculable."    
  
Tex looked down at York, and picked her hand up and began to stroke her fingers through his hair. York can't help but wonder whether or not she can feel it, but doesn't bother to ask because he hasn't felt something so pleasant for so long. He feels dirty, it's been ages since he last got a chance to clean up properly. Tex probably doesn't care.    
  
"I found a Freelancer facility. Or, records of one that I hadn’t seen before, to be clear." She begins to explain, and there is a seriousness to her voice that York feels entirely too used to. York can't remember her ever sounding playful or laughing. Maybe it isn't in her programming. "And I want to get in and get a few things before someone else can."   
  
"What kinds of things?" York asks, letting his eyes open and staring up at Tex with his one good eye. She looks down at him, and York smirks up at her. "Because-"   
  
"Oh, you know." Tex starts. "Experimental equipment, weapons, transmissions."   
  
York can't help but perk up at that mention because really, it isn't like he doesn't need things. His healing unit needs to be tuned up a bit and restocked with certain supplies. He ran out of ammo a while back and his shotgun... Well, it could also use a little bit of care itself.

"It sounds like some interesting stuff." York mumbles, doing his best to pretend like he isn't interested. Maybe if he holds out he can get Tex to sweeten the pot. Really, the possibility of having someone else there with him alone was good enough. If he holds out, then helps, that's a little more time with another person.    
  
"It is." Tex says, watching him closely from behind cybernetic eyes. "And that's why I need your help. Because all that stuff is really good, but if I don't have a way to get in, then there is only so much that I can do to get it."   
  
York looks down at his hands. They're thinner than they used to be, and he isn't sure that the little implants in his fingertips or the specialized gloves on his armor can still do their job quite right. Without them, if they end up with a holo-lock he knows for a fact he'll end up in worse shape than he would have been normally. No sensory feedback went a long way normally, York knew that already.    
  
But no sensory feedback when he already could barely look at a holo-lock in full detail? That was impossible.    
  
"If I say yes," York starts, taking his time because he has to or else he won't feel okay for a second. "What's in it for me?"   
  
"Anything you can carry out is yours." Tex says, with not even a shred of nongenuine intention in her. "I figure that sounds good?"   
  
"And to think I was hoping for cash." York retorts, breathing in smoke and letting his eyes slip shut as he relaxed a little bit more. "You're sure that this is going to be good?"   
  
"More or less."   
  
"D?" York calls for the AI out of habit at this point.    
  
"Without access to information about the facility, there is a large margin of error." Delta begins, and York smiles as he sinks down into Delta's calculations. It brings a comfort that York is entirely too used to at this point, and he isn't going to let it pass.    
  
He feels warm.    
  
"Agent Texas' presence on this mission raises the tactical matrix significantly. The presence of the Omega AI would-"   
  
"That's enough, Delta." Tex speaks up, and York can't help that there is a slight feeling of offense that washed over him at it. Delta had a liking for Tex, yeah, that was true but Delta-   
  
Delta wasn't  _ hers  _ to talk to like that. For all of the flaws that the two of them have, York is pretty fond of the little guy. Delta makes him feel whole in ways that people hadn't in a very long time.    
  
So yeah, York can't help but feel a bit... defensive. Even if he isn't entirely sure why.    
  
"My apologies, Agent Texas." Delta responds to it, and York feels something down in him, making him warm again and helping him relax a little more. "I was merely trying to assist."   
  
"Of course, D." Tex says, and that warmth intensifies again from Delta's. A nearly physical symbol of Delta's affection for Tex. "But I need to know if you are in or out. Preferably soon."   
  
York nods, taking a deep breath as he does his best to sort out what to do.    
  
It's already a done deal.   
  
"Yeah." York mumbles, snuggling in against Tex a little more than he probably should. "We're in."   
  
"It'll be like old times." Tex jokes, and her hand is in York's hair again, stroking through it, artificial nails scraping against his scalp in a way that is only pleasant.    
  
"I'm tired." York mumbled. "It's late."   
  
"So go to bed." Tex says, pushing him away just slightly. "I'll be here when you get up. In the meantime-" She looked to Delta's hologram. "I think me and Delta are going to need some time to work."   
  
"Right." York mumbles. He snuffs out what is left of his cigarette on the floor beside the matress. The mess won't matter a damn when he has to be getting out of there so soon anyways. As soon as this job was over with, York was going to uproot and run off to somewhere new.    
  
But he pauses, looking down the matress and then around the apartment. There isn't much of anywhere to sit, and York is pretty sure that he lives his entire life off of that matress anyways. "Tex?" He mumbles, turning and trying to settle. "Can I-"   
  
She rolls her eyes and scoots down towards the end of the the bed.  York watches her, and she just picks up his worn out old pillow before resting it against her hip and patting it.    
  
The message is clear enough. York crawls in beside her, tugging a worn out old blanket overhimself before resting his head on the pillow.    
  
The feeling of Delta's warmth and Tex's fingers stroking through York's hair is more than enough to lull him to sleep. 

* * *

 

She feels like she has made an effort to reach out with all that she's made of. There is something in her code, reaching out for the AI that is locked up there in York's body.    
  
The feeling is there though, a gentle push back when she finally makes the effort to make contact.    
  
Then, there's Delta there.    
  
"Hey, Delta." Tex greets him, and she settles into the body that she has and relaxes. Tries not to think about how fragile the whole arrangement is, how she had seen York almost die once before. Tries not to think about the lengths that could be gone through for the sake of getting her or Delta back into Freelancer hands.    
  
"Hello, Agent Texas." Delta greets her, his projection appearing by York's helmet. The AI has made a choice to keep his projection weak, like he is afraid to be too bright for the sake of waking York up. Or perhaps he is afraid that he'll end up as a beacon for those that would wish to harm them. "How could I be of assistance?"   
  
"I feel like you and I never get to talk." Tex tells the AI, choosing to take the route of the silent conversation that the two of them were able to have. "How have things really been going, Delta?"   
  
"They have been as Agent York described." Delta responds, and Tex can feel the slightest pushback. For a moment, she wonders what York feels down in his nerves. 

There has to be some sort of feedback from Delta, but Tex can’t imagine what. It could be something as simple as sound, or something as complex as unknotting his muscles or tricking him into thinking that he felt things differently than he actually did. With York sleeping though, there was no real way to tell.    
  
“I trust that you have been taking care of him, D?”   
  
“To the best of my ability.” Delta responded, his voice calm as it always was. Tex wondered whether or not the AI’s monotone ever took on a hint of panic or not. “There is only so much that I can do without interfering in Agent York’s autonomy. Deep nervous stimulation is an intrusive process."   
  
And that's something that Tex thinks she can understand. Somewhere, deep down inside of her knows exactly what its like to feel like something has been torn away. That was what the Director did to her. To the other fragments as well. She wonders if Delta remembers it at all, if that is something that bothers him.    
  
If it does, Tex is sure that it bothers York as well, in its own way.    
  
"That's very kind of you, Delta." Tex says, relaxing back and looking down at York again where he rests. "I just wish that I could tell you more about what I need you two to help me with."   
  
"Without blueprints that is very little that I can do as well." Delta responds, and Tex watches the bob of his head, the way that Delta seems to focus his gaze onto the sleeping York. "Agent York is a great believer in luck. Once the infiltration begins, he is likely to play it by ear with me assisting and correcting as we go."   
  
Tex nods. "We'll get a strategy together before we go in to do this." She mumbles, allowing herself to say it out loud because it feels like something that York deserves to hear himself. Even if he isn't awake enough to understand, York deserves to hear it out loud. "I trust you, Delta." She says, still keeping her voice down. "York does too. It's going to be up to all of us to watch each other's backs."   
  
"Part of my assigned duty is to assist York's vision." Delta cuts in, like that is the exact same thing. It is, but only to a degree and that isn't necessarily a bad thing. At the very least, Tex can trust that Delta won't go abandoning York at any point. "I will do my best to compensate for his left side whilst also watching after you."   
  
Tex smiles. "Thank you, Delta." She says calmly. "I know that we can always trust in you."   
  
Delta's projection seems to nod, and Tex lets herself calm down again. She feels York shift against her leg, and she just responds with another stroke of her fingers through his head. She knows that she should probably power down herself, and Delta could probably use it himself.    
  
She doesn't even need to say it herself, but then a moment later Delta was speaking up himself.    
  
"Rest would be conducive to our mission, Agent Texas." Delta gives the explanation, and Tex wonders if it is because he's about to wake York up. "More can be discussed once all three of us are awake."   
  
"Right." Tex mumbles, still patting down York's hair. "Power down, D. I'll rest. We can talk in the morning."   
  
"Thank you, Agent Texas."


	2. sympathetic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tex, York, and Delta move forward on their mission- starting with some grand theft.

“You know, you keep on  _ saying  _ that you’re good at what you do-” Tex starts, watching York out of the corner of her eye while she stood by kept an eye on their surroundings, hand on her gun just in case the two of them ended up with company. Unlike their reunion, they’re both properly prepared for a fight. York’s armor is a little too loose for him, but he gave up on complaining about a day after she got him back into it. He’s just lost muscle since leaving Freelancer and they both know it. 

“C’mon.” York groans, not daring to allow himself to look over at Tex for even a second because he has his hands full. In his left, he has a tension wrench carefully resting, while he picks with a small hooked tool, clasped gently in his right. “Why are you starting on me now?”

Tex watches as he finally gets the lock open, and when she checks the little timer that she’d set on her hud, she finds that he’d only taken about thirty seconds to get the lock open. York tosses the chain and lock to the ground, tucking his tools back away in the little compartment in his gauntlet. 

“Oh, you know.” Tex says as she follows York in. “I just know that you can post better times than that. I’ve seen you do it.”

“I can.” York responded, and Tex quickly realized that he was irritated. “But when we aren’t under a crunch and speed isn’t the only factor, there’s not much use to rushing it.”

“Right.” Tex says, stepping into the building that he’d just opened up and looking up at their quarry, her arms crossed over her chest. “You just better be telling me the truth about this little expedition.”

“Have I ever lied to you?” York asks, wandering deeper into the building and his visor tilting in too-large increments as he tried to get a good look at his surroundings. “D, what do you think?”

Delta’s projection flickered into sight, casting a warm green light around their surroundings which seemed to bounce off of the contents of the building, gleaming bright against burnished metal. Tex feels a certain appreciation for it, but the fact of the matter was that York had suggested this trip and she hadn’t liked the odds for it  _ at all. _

York talked a big game normally, and Tex had a feeling that she perhaps couldn’t entirely trust York’s claim that he could  _ definitely _ hotwire a Pelican. 

“You’ve tried.” Tex mutters as she looks around the hangar. She watched as Delta’s projection shot across the room and then rested in front of one Pelican in particular. Moments later, the AI’s voice was coming through York’s radio. 

“This ship will suffice.” Delta explained. “Though it doesn’t appear to have been serviced recently.”

York looked over at Tex and flashed her a wide smile before falling into a confident strut across the hangar until he was standing by his AI, taking a look at the Pelican for himself. “You say that, but can it get into the air and out of atmosphere?”

“It should be able to carry us to the facility that Agent Texas designated and back, provided we don’t damage the craft.” Delta says, and Tex watches as York pops open that compartment on his armor again, this time removing a cable as he walked in closer to the ship. “There is however the issue of piloting it.”

And that,  _ that _ was what made Tex realize that York had  _ definitely _ been talking bigger than he was capable. She knew York- she knew that he could drive a Warthog pretty spectacularly, and wasn’t that bad with a jet pack assuming he wasn’t thrown into a weird situation, but she had never once even heard mention of him  _ piloting.  _

She stepped in beside him. “You better know how to pilot this thing, York.”

York shrugged. “I figured I could make D do it. He’s helped Niner out a few times.”

“You know that isn’t a substitute for doing it yourself, right?” Tex asks, feeling a little bit surprised that York would have suggested something so reckless. She knows him. She’s seen him in the field, weaving in and out of danger like it was nothing even when his eye was gone. This almost doesn’t feel like the same person, Tex thinks. 

He’s lost his confidence. She doesn’t know why, but she can see it.    
  
But York just shrugs it off, like she had just said something so minute and inconsequential that it isn’t even something worth discussing. “I don’t have to.” York finally says with a shrug. “I just let D take the wheel. I know he’s good for it.”   
  
Almost all at once what exactly York is even suggesting becomes clear to Tex.    
  
She’d realized a while back that York and Delta were more integrated than most of the AI-Freelancer pairs. They’ve had some of the most time to get used to each other, and Delta is better matched for York than he would have been with just about anyone.

She hadn't realized that the two of them had allow for the bond to run so deep that York was legitimately suggesting that Delta manipulate his nervous system in that sort of way. Especially when she knew that the two of them were well aware of the risks.    
  
Tex looks over at York, and then to Delta's projection. York is walking over to the side of the Pelican that the two of them had singled out, looking for something. He seems to find it though, prying open a small door on the side of the ship and beginning to hook his armor up to the craft.    
  
She hesitates for a moment before allowing herself to go over and see what he is doing. "You and Delta are really willing to do that?"   
  
York shrugs. "He tends to ride deep so that he can help my eye out." He mumbles, finally plugging in properly. Delta's projection disappears, and then it's a matter of waiting for a few seconds while the AI does his job. "Letting him take over more of my body so that he can steer is nothing. Usually. "   
  
Tex feels something that she can't quite name over the way that York says it. She wonders if he has made Delta take over for him so they could do something in the past. She has a feeling that if that is the case, she really doesn't want to know too much about it.    
  
“Usually?” Tex growls at York. "This sounds pretty damn risky, York."   
  
"It'll be fine." York mumbled. There was a thumping sound, and York flashed a quick smile in her direction. "D's in the systems now, and that would have been the door." He shrugs as he walks over to the driver's side door, pulling it open and climbing up in before making his way towards the back of the dropship. "He's going to play nice with air traffic control, and then the three of us are going to be out of here."

It sounds so nice that Tex doesn’t even want to correct York on certain details. She lets the thought die with the shake of her head.    
  
Tex gets into the ship herself now, pulling the door shut and casting a glance over the interior. It looks... exactly like every other Pelican that she'd been in. In fact, it's stunningly unremarkable, and that seems like it had been Delta's intent. He wouldn't have wanted to risk the two of them getting tracked, she was sure of it.    
  
"So." York says, leaning against her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders, thumping her on the back. Too tactile. York has always been too tactile. She remembers him always sitting too close to people in the mess hall, or climbing over people to get things. Apparently that hasn't changed. "What do you think of the new place?"

"I would say that it's definitely an improvement over your last one." Tex said with a deadpan as she walked towards the cockpit. One of them needed to check it out. He was wandering the cargo area, almost absentmindedly. A moment later, she realized that he was looking for a weapons cache or perhaps some other supplies.   
  
York shrugged. "It's definitely a step up. I can hire a decorator."   
  
"And how would you hire a decorator, York?" Tex asked. "Considering that you've admitted to being homeless."   
  
All that she earned was yet another shrug from York. It seemed that he'd given up on his search. He set his shotgun down in one of the seats in the back of the Pelican before going back to the front. "I figured that you of all people would know that amazing things get done when you have someone at gunpoint. Not that I like to do things that way, but-" His voice trails off. Tex can fill in the blanks.    
  
Tex took the co-pilot's seat, and she just watched as York went over the cockpit, over and over again. Probably trying to get used to where all of the controls would be. Of course, she had her doubts that his own muscle memory would matter much once they took off.    
  
"This is a bad idea, York."   
  
"Wow." York mumbled, leaning back into the seat and taking a deep breath. "Thanks for the vote of confidence. No faith."    
  
Tex rolled her eyes. "Just get us out of here."   
  
The navigation screen lit up in bright lime green, and Tex looked over at it. "We are nearly cleared for take-off." Delta explained calmly. "Expect to be leaving within the next five minutes, Agents."   
  
"Just take your time, D." York mumbled. He drummed his fingers frantically against the controls of the ship. "I could use it."   
  
"Nervous?"   
  
"It's..." York started and stopped again, letting his head sag forward slightly. "We'll talk later. Just... getting ready for D."   
  
"So you don't like it when he goes deep in your nerves then?" Tex asked, and she can't help that she's pretty curious about it. She knew what it had been like with Omega- he would do his best to take her body over while they were in the field, but she had always been good enough to fight him back. Even then it had felt invasive.    
  
But it was different, Tex knew that now. 

Whatever it was to York she couldn’t guess. He wasn’t the same way that she was. Never was and she hoped he never would be.    
  
York shrugged though. "It is what it is." He mumbled. "I give him control once in a while, he keeps me alive. I trust Delta, that doesn't mean that it's... pleasant all the time."   
  
"Cleared for takeoff." Delta's voice broke into the conversation, and his projection appeared in front of York's helmet, hovering there. Whatever York looked like behind his helmet was something that Tex couldn't help but curious about.    
  
The silence spoke for itself though. York and Delta were having a private conversation of their own. Delta's projection flickered out, and Tex watched as York's posture changed entirely.    
  
His back went straight and rigid, and when he started to move it was all too jerky and unnatural. Like he was a puppet being pulled along. All of the relaxation that York normally moved with was just gone.    
  
"You gonna go, D?" Tex asked, watching York and Delta's combined motions.    
  
"Affirmative." Delta responded with York's voice but his own clipped tone. The AI's voice came out through the speakers on York's armor as well, and the overall effect was unsettling. "Are you prepared for flight?"   
  
"I am, D."

York’s body gave a nod that was much closer to being a jerk and then everything began to be drowned out by the sound of engines firing up, and moments after that they were off the ground and in flight.    
  
Tex just did her best to focus on anything other than the uncanny motions and sounds of York’s controlled body.

* * *

 

Delta got them to exactly where they needed to be without too much trouble. He'd piloted them to the correct planet and city, and once they'd arrived he'd held control for a little longer than he'd strictly needed to. There was comfort buried in York’s nerves. 

Once they were on planet, he'd been sure to task Tex with the chore of finding them a place to stay. With what little money they had, there was only so much that Delta and York could do to gather supplies, but they did what they could.    
  
A ping from Tex drew Delta and York to a small hotel. Delta's immediate sense was that it was a lower class establishment, perhaps best suited to less than savory parts of the criminal world. He simply did his best not to fret over the reviews and public records on the way back. Surely a room robbery in the previous three months would not matter to them.    
  
Once they arrived at the hotel, Delta had York on the bed (Tex had decided that it was best to order a room with a single bed. Delta suspected that the two of them would be left to their own devices for some time.)   
  
"Welcome back, York." Tex said from the tiny table in the room. On it, she had taken the liberty of laying out a selection of weaponry. Sitting neatly in the corner was a styrofoam box of food which York was going to need, if the indications coming back from his healing unit were any indicator. His blood sugar was getting low. It would be best to rectify that before it became a problem.   
  
"Hello, Agent Texas." Delta responded to the woman as he sat York down on the bed, almost awkwardly. York's hands were resting in their lap, and Delta knew that if he wanted to he could have reached down a little further into York's nerves and tried to approximate the sensation of warmth for himself.    
  
Whatever that felt like. He mostly only knew what York had described to him personally.    
  
Tex looked at them though, and nodded. "Or Delta." She replied, turning back to the rifle that was laid out on the table. "Still haven't separated yet?"   
  
"The process of deep nervous stimulation can be taxing on the human body." Delta explains, making sure to turn off the speakers in York's suit. "When we separate, York will likely be physically exhausted. It was for the best that we waited for a chance to rest before separating."   
  
"And... York doesn't mind it when you two do this?"   
  
Delta pauses, comprehending a thousand possible answers in milliseconds but only doing his best to find the answers which York would most willingly use. The utility of the matter was hard to explain in a way that felt even remotely human.    
  
"York sees it as a practical utility." Delta explains, beginning to prepare to pull back away from York's nerves and hand control back over. "As one would a tool. He may not enjoy relinquishing control as we have, but sees its use."   
  


Delta lets out a pulse from where he is resting in York’s nerves, the sort that would run through his host and relax the muscles. It would be just enough to get York calmed down, and that was about all that Delta needed. York’s heart beat steadily.    
  
“So you’re going to let him go?” Tex asked, watching the two of them still. Delta let out a sympathetic pulse, hopeful that Tex would be able to pick up on the ping for herself. “Because if it’s that taxing, he’s going to need to recover.”   
  
“Of course.” Delta replied, letting himself stretch into the outer corners of York’s armor, feeling out the healing unit. It didn’t appear to require use, and that was a good thing. “If you may give us a moment, Agent Texas.”   
  
“Sure thing, D.”   
  
Delta pulled back from York, zipping back along his nerves until he rested in the back of York's brain, quiet and calm. Slowly, he could feel York's consciousness beginning to stir and move to activity. Delta did what he could to make himself comfortable and just waited, feeling York wake around him.    
  
There was something nice about it that Delta had learned that he enjoyed. The truth was that ever since his implantation in York, he had only found that loneliness was a terrible thing that even managed to feel like it was suffocating.    
  
For just the moment, he decided to speak to York silently in the hopes that they could have a check in. " _ Agent York _ ." Delta started, still hanging towards the back of York's consciousness.  _ "I have relinquished nervous control over you. _ "   
  
Delta can almost feel the way that York tenses around him, and he sends out yet another pulse to relax the man's muscles. The man was going to need a chance to rest, and when that happened Delta was going to do what he could to make it easier. He could not provide York with a genuine sensation of touch. He could not provide York with many of the comforts that the man all but craved.    
  
The thing that Delta had realized about York was that the man would get worse and worse the more that he was deprived. Over the course of the months that the two of them had spent together since defecting from Project Freelancer, York's condition had only ever worsened.    
  
Delta resented it, but he did what he could. He could stimulate York's nerves in just the right way to make him relax, or he could offer a chance to dull his pain receptors for a brief time without the use of pain medications which made him worry. He could take away York's physical hunger until the time came where they could deal with it properly.    
  
He did what he could for York, and in exchange York was always there for him in turn. York did what upkeep he could when it was possible, and he offered Delta windows into humanity that he wouldn't have been able to get otherwise.    
  
Because of that, Delta treated these waking moments as though they were something precious. They were the moments where York's fragility was the most obvious, the tug of exhaustion already reaching them both.    
  
"Thanks D." York mumbles, and he leans forward.

Delta goes with him, without much of a choice in the matter because no matter what he’s hooked into York’s neural circuits. He decides to hang back, giving York the time to recover and rest. Once he’s sure that York is fine (which does involve him zipping into the healing unit for just a moment to double-check on him,) Delta projects forward from York’s shoulder.    
  
“Agent York will need time to recover.” Delta states plainly. Tex doesn’t respond, just picks up the little container of food and walks across the room before setting it down at York’s side. York moves slowly, reaching over for the box and opening it up, even fumbling for the plastic-wrapped fork for a moment before beginning to eat.    
  
If he were hard pressed to do so, Delta was sure that he would have had great difficulty explaining the relief that he felt knowing that York was getting a meal in for once without having to fight for it first.    
  
“Then he should do that.” Tex mumbled, going back to her work already. “Are you two going to be able to work tomorrow, or should I prepare for a long night of doing nothing?”   
  
“Affirmative.” York and Delta answer almost in tandem, though York’s voice comes out muffled by the food in his mouth. Delta can’t help the brief panic that he feels over it, wondering whether or not he hadn’t relinquished control enough.    
  
York swallowed, and Delta calmed again once his host started to talk. “I’m just gonna need a good night’s sleep, then D and I will be ready for whatever we’re going to do.” York says this as he pokes at his takeout with his fork, turning over some noodles in search of a bit of chicken. “Although, if we run into holographic locks and I’m already tired, it isn’t gonna be pretty.”    
  
“What Agent York means-” Delta interjects, feeling a slight response from York which Delta imagines would feel like a nudge in the physical form, “Is that without rest he is more prone to headaches than he would be otherwise.”    
  
Tex looks at Delta’s avatar, and for a fleeting millisecond Delta feels the urge to flee or flicker out of sight. It's an impulse that has been there since the day of his metaphorical birth, protocols and commands buried deep within his code that Delta wishes that he could remove from himself entirely. Perhaps in that way, he would feel a little more human and a little more at ease with York.    
  
In the project, he had only gotten to speak to Tex once, but back then the pretense that she was not as she seemed hadn't been there quite yet. Back then, as far as Delta was concerned she was simply another one of York's rivals for the top of the leaderboard (the concept that York might have actively been afraid of being on top of the list of agents was something that hadn't yet occurred to him.)   
  
He stands his ground though, and Tex's gaze drifts back over to York, unimpressed and amused all at once. "I thought that the headaches were a side effect from Delta?"   
  
York shrugs, setting his box of food down for a moment and reaching for a napkin that had come with it. He's wiping his fingers off gingerly, and Delta briefly considers flickering down to the delicate little implants in York's fingertips for a chance at a sensation he won't truly be able to feel. York finally begins to answer though.    
  
"D's always a headache," He starts, letting out a little laugh that Delta can't help but feel  _ some _ offense over. "But nah, it's the eye mostly. Monocular vision isn't as much fun as the movies make it seem."   
  
"I wasn't aware that anything made it look fun."    
  
Delta feels a coldness of sorts, York burying whatever emotion had flit through him deep down so that it couldn't come back out. Delta categorizes it as accurately as he can- frustration.   
  
"You've clearly never seen a pirate movie then." York says, all but forcing on a wide smile. Delta can feel the sadness, and can guess with a 85% accuracy that York has thought of one Agent Illinois.

Delta is unsure of what to do, because he knows that this is yet another case of York attempting to play off his personal discomforts with humor. He'd become somewhat accustomed to such behavior, but it was always obvious when York was subtly upset.    
  
"Agent York is being facetious." Delta adds, as though that will be enough to make things less awkward on some level.    
  
"I couldn't tell." Tex answers, and there is a tension to her that Delta wishes that he would be able to reach out and soothe her himself.    
  
York rolls his eyes and looks away from Tex, going back to his meal. Delta allows for his projection to flicker out, and darts back to the corner of York's consciousness. From where he is, he is still able to listen along, borrowing York's senses for his own purposes.    
  
"Thanks for the meal." York says, and his voice is quiet. "It’s uh... it's nice."   
  
"No problem." Tex replies, and Delta does his best to imagine her without dipping into York's eye to see what he could see himself. "I need to know that you're going to be on top of your game though, York. I know that you have bad luck with alarms."    
  
There is a moment of quiet, but it isn't complete silence. Tex takes her seat at York's side, and Delta knows that if York had his way he would probably be curling into Tex's side. "I don't try to." York muttered, and Delta feels the discomfort to tell him that once again, York's frustrations are getting the better of him. "I was better before you showed up."   
  
"I know." Tex replies. "You know, you got better again once you got Delta."   
  
The comment does actually manage to surprise Delta, because it is a praise that he hadn't heard before from Tex. He's been complimented many times over for his logical abilities, or for being able to provide aid in the battlefield in the moment. It had never felt like he was ever praised for something beside that.    
  
York sighs. "Yeah," He mumbles, and Delta wishes that he could do something to soothe the exhaustion that runs so deep in York's body. He wishes that he could offer something emotional when it feels like he has had to try so hard before but was never truly able to do it himself. "He's been good to me."   
  
Tex is quiet, and there's the shift of the bed again. Delta is sure that York has given up on his meal at that point. He’s probably curled up with his head on Tex's shoulder. "I see why you were picked for him."    
  
"What?" York replies, and this is something that Delta has been... curious about. Even though he has access to York's senses, Delta realized that there were some things that York didn't want for him to have. One of those such things was York's memories. In a way, he doesn't even know the full details of the events which had led up to York's implantation.    
  
"Well, that's how you were assigned him, right?"   
  
York is quiet. "It's... hard to say." He says finally, and Delta knows that York has probably tensed most of his body over what was going on. "I was told that..." York pauses, searching for his words. If Delta felt as though this were truly a conversation for him to be actively present for, he would have given an option. As things are, he doesn't feel as though that's the case. "The AI were matched based on psych profiles." York starts, keeping his voice down. "And I think that was... kind of true. Me and D. North and Theta. Even Reggie and Gamma were done... right. It was the other ones that were... weird. Not that I feel really sure any of them are  _ right _ anymore."

York stayed quiet for a moment too long, letting out a quiet breath before he decided to keep going. “So I guess that we were chosen for each other, but....” York shrugged, and Delta let out a comforting pulse of sound which seemed to make York calm more. “That doesn’t matter now, does it?”   
  
"Of course it matters." Tex replies, her voice gentler and softer than Delta had ever heard it. "He's stuck in you. And the two of you have been on your own together for how long?"   
  
"You'd have to ask D." York mumbled. "He's the one that likes keeping track of this sort of stuff."   
  
Delta is able to come up with the number immediately and forces back the urge to force the thought to the front of York's mind. He has a feeling that as things were to do so would go poorly.    
  
Texas sighs. "You're a good pair. And I'm glad to be able to work with you two now."   
  
York let out a bitter laugh. "Say that again when I've set off alarms."   
  
"I know you," Tex said, keeping her voice down. "And I get the feeling that you work better with positive reinforcement."    
  
"Tell that to Delta." York muttered, and Delta could all but feel the wave of anger that washed over York over it. "Or the Director. Just about anyone really. They want results and I can do my job but-"   
  
"But what, York?"   
  
"But I'm human." York said. "I make mistakes. People don't realize that I can't see hololocks right anymore, or that miscalculations happen. Or that the people that make locks are usually the people that know how to crack them so they get designed with people like me in mind."    
  
"I'll back you up." Tex says, accompanied by the sound of York lying down on the bed which creaks under him. "You should rest though."    
  
There was another creak of the bed, and Delta took it as a sign that it was just York trying to get comfortable. But there's a pause, then the sound of skin touching synthetic skin.    
  
"Don't go." York says, his voice fragile, quiet, and pleading.    
  
"I'll be here." Tex says, clearly walking away. "I'm not going anywhere."   
  
"Never abandon your team." York mumbled.    
  
"That's right. Get some rest."    
  
Nothing else was said after that, and once Delta detected that York had slipped off to sleep and was well into his REM cycle, Delta allowed himself to log off properly. 


	3. open doors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> York and Tex storm an active Freelancer facility, and are finally able to start getting some answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took much longer than I would have liked to get out, but it's also the chapter that effectively doubles the wordcount of this fic. Chapter 4 will be here much sooner than this one was. 
> 
> I hope you didn't mind the wait, and thank you for reading.

"You see anything down there?" York whispers the question from his position on the ground. Tex is next to him, her elbow bumped up against his own.The two of them lie in the bushes near the Project Freelancer compound that the two of them had decided to go after. He can't see much from where they are, and even if he could, there was only so much he could do with one eye. For that reason, he’s keeping his eye on what’s going on directly around them (although Delta does more of the work running his motion trackers,) while Tex stares down a sniper’s scope.  
  
If they were closer it would have been theoretically possible for Delta to try and hop into the systems at the facility, but as things stood that hadn't become much of an option for them. It's a good reason that Tex has a sniper rifle and is staring down the scope, making calculations much faster than York ever could on his own.  
  
There is a _slight_ pang of jealousy that York feels over that, which Delta seems to tamp down on his own. It’s a stupid thing to get jealous over anyhow. "There's nothing yet." Tex grumbles, not bothering to look over at York. "You could afford to make yourself useful though."  
  
"I'm plenty useful." York replies, stretching his shoulders in the process. "Just not at long-range. I thought you _knew_ that when you came to get me. Need me to open a lock or do hand to hand, fine. Sniping and recon? That’s what I had North for."

He sees the way that Tex almost relaxes and looks at him from behind her helmet. The tilt of her visor says everything that it could ever need to say. Mostly, it says that she _really_ wants him to just shut up, but York can't just _do_ that.  
  
See, York has this _problem_ and has always had this problem and he knows that everyone around him hates it. York's problem is that since the day that he learned to talk, he has never known when he was supposed to stop talking. It’s a curse, one that makes him constantly run his mouth and get into problems he would have been otherwise. It's one thing in normal situations and in conversations where he's just likely to offend or put his foot in his mouth.  
  
When it comes to being in the field, it’s even worse. He either clogs the radio channels with chatter or ends up compromising something. Breaking someone’s concentration. It's the reason he's been the recipient of too many "North outs" and the reason that he _knows_ Maine couldn't stand him. South had hated it, Wash had been on the receiving end of one too many snappish comments, and Carolina was probably the only one that was able to scare him enough to make him shut up.

York's never been able to find a good way to explain that he runs his mouth when he's nervous. Delta's helped a little bit, but not nearly enough. It's part of the reason that he's now fidgety and nervous. He doesn't think that Tex realizes that he's talking so much for a reason. She probably assumes that he’s just being a pain, York thinks. If she thinks something else, then she probably just doesn't care all that much and just wants him to quiet down.  
  
"I could have found someone else to help." Tex says plainly, and York clamps his mouth shut, shifting around nervously where he's lying. "Delta, are you able to do any sort of scan?"  
  
There's the silence, and York feels a little bit of comfort knowing that Delta isn't going to start his usual projection. Sure enough, Delta's voice comes in over his and Tex's radios, but for York it's a bit much, since Delta is already in his head anyways.  
  
It makes it almost like he has to hear his AI partner in stereo. But more like a migraine than just overlapping sounds. Not fun.  
  
"Affirmative." Delta says to them both. On York's HUD, he sees his map light up, and he's sure that Tex is getting the same image. Almost all at once, and like North were there with them commanding them to do it, Delta was setting trackers and that was something that York could take comfort in. It’s a desperately missed part of a routine that he’d long fallen out of. "Targets spotted."  
  
"What have we got?" Tex asks, letting her head lower again back down to the scope on her rifle. The way that she shifts tells York that she has managed to see _something_ . He didn't know what she would have seen, but he took note of it anyhow. If there was going to be a fight, he was their first line of defense. York knows that.  
  
"There are two guards at the front entrance," Delta begins to explain, notes appearing on York's HUD faster than the AI's voice could explain the situation. "It can be expected that there will be further reinforcements inside. Due to the facility's status as a Freelancer base, it can also be expected that there will be simulation troopers-"  
  
Out of the corner of York's eye, he sees Tex tense up and it leaves him with a lot of questions that he is sure he won't get any sort of answer to. He'd been to a few Sim Bases since becoming a Freelancer, but York had always taken care to try and avoid being sent to them. He'd never had much taste for bloodshed, really. Beating up on idiots isn’t his idea of fun, at the end of the day. It never had been.

The two of them both let the statement hang in the air for a little too long though. York doesn't want to deal with guards and sims if they don't have to. Whatever is going on with Tex is her business, and he doesn't want to go ahead and pry. She has a right to her privacy.  
  
What needs to happen is that the two of them need to be able to concentrate and do their jobs. Not focus on the number of things that could go wrong, or the people that are likely to get hurt in the crossfire.  
  
York knew himself. He knew Tex. If it came down to it, both of them were prone to direct action.

Specifically, direct, improvised action.

He closes his eyes, reaching out for any connection with Delta because he feels that might be what he needs to make him feel a little bit better. Delta sends back a comforting pulse that runs down his spine and leaves tingles in its wake.  
  
York swallows and lets himself try and take the lead. Even if he hates having to do it.  
  
"Well," He says, keeping his voice even and desperately hoping that it wouldn’t betray his nerves. "If I've learned anything in my life, it's that where there's two guards, there's always going to be ten more, at a minimum."  
  
"Where'd you learn that one?" Tex asks, and there is some rather obvious amusement in her voice. "One of your times setting off alarms?"  
  
"Oh, you know, petty theft, war crimes, getting thrown out of malls, jaywalking. You know how it goes." York jokes, and he's starting to feel a little bit more calm. "D, I'm guessing you can't get in there just yet?"  
  
"Affirmative." Delta responds, sending a pulse to York that is enough to calm him a bit. If Delta were human, if he'd had the ability, York knew that it would have been like a hand smoothing down his back. Or maybe a neckrub. "Although I can predict with an 86% probability that guard rotations will be occurring within the next twelve minutes."  
  
York looks over at Tex, and she nods back to him. Both of them trust Delta plenty, and that was something that York knew Delta was more than well aware of. If anything, they'd been given somewhat reliable information. He was willing to take it and run with it.  
  
"How are you so sure?" Tex asks, just looking for another confirmation that moving in was a good idea.  
  
"My statistical matrix suggests that most Freelancer facilities with the exception of the Simulation Bases are run according similar schedules and with identical protocols." Delta explains, and York can all but feel him there, zipping around in the back of his head and going from memory to memory, bits of information to bits of information. "Past experiences have shown that the guard at a Freelancer base would change at 1 pm local time."  
  
"So we've got ten minutes." Tex says, and she's already getting up. York doesn't like this too much, but he gets up just the same, stretching slightly as he prepares to do his job. "Ready up, York."  
  
"Working on it." York says, letting out a sigh. "D, I'm gonna need you on my left." He says, and receives a quiet chirp in response that he's sure that Tex isn't able to hear. All at once, there's a sensation like his head is spinning and his vision changes and straightens out in a way that has never been even remotely comfortable. When he’d first gotten Delta implanted, there had been definite nausea. York’s glad that little side effect is gone for the most part.  
  
"Acknowledged." Delta says once the two of them are ready. York blinks once, twice. Takes a breath and tries to get the dizziness to go away before it can become a problem. "Calibrating."

It's about the best that he's going to get out of Delta for a bit and York knows it. He just lets Delta take him along for the ride, and while he wants to let himself sink down into the little ones and zeroes and just be there with Delta while his eye adjusts to the neural intrusion, York can't allow for that to happen.  
  
Within a minute, he's able to see on that side, at least to some degree. It's better than it was, when he could only really see lights and very vague blurred shapes. Delta sharpens the image just enough to heighten York's awareness, and York is truly grateful for it. Even if he’s going to come out of it with a headache later.  
  
"Are you good yet?" Tex asks, and York can tell that she's completely frustrated with the waiting. He can't really blame Tex for it. "Or do we need to stand around more while our window closes?"  
  
"I'm good." York says, making a determined choice that they weren't going to tell Tex that he was going to end up sick if this lasts much longer than two hours. The two of them stand up on the ledge, York checks his gun one last time. "Delta?"  
  
Delta's words showed up on the text line on his HUD, and York is sure that Tex is getting the same image.

D: Synchronizing on Agent Texas' mark.

York looks to Tex for confirmation that she’s ready.  
  
She nods, giving a little gesture with the tilt of her chin, and turns towards the way down the cliff. "On my mark we're going down. We'll follow the blueprints that we were able to get ahold of to get in and make our way through the building until we reach the data storage." Tex stares at York. "Do you think you can handle that?"  
  
"Me and D will have it." York replies, putting on his usual confidence. "Waiting on you."  
  
She nods and the tilt to her visor tells York that she’s smiling. Confident, in her own effortless way.

"Mark."  
  
"Sync." York snaps just as quickly as as Tex did. He makes sure to follow her from several feet back on the way down. The entire time, Delta keeps him with a constant stream of information. Always giving pointers on their surroundings, on places to take cover, and which rocks were the least likely to give way under him.

In a way, it almost feels like York is taking a backseat, while Delta pilots. It’s odd, but strangely comforting. It’s comforting in the same way that the quiet of the hillside is. Almost there, but not quite.

All that York really hears is the sound of their own footsteps. Tex shoots York a look that tells him quite clearly that the two of them needed to hide at around the same time that they reached the perimeter around the Freelancer Base.

Tex glances at him over her shoulder before leaping down, tucking herself away behind a small barrier. Before York even realizes it, her outline has melted away, along with her.

_Shit._

Delta whispers to him. ‘ _It would be advisable to find cover.’_

York can’t exactly find it in him to retort, so he just decides to wait and watch from the treeline. He can follow the slight shimmer around Tex’s outline, and watches her make it past the gates with ease. She slips into a small guard hut, and York waits patiently. Moments later, the first guard falls to the ground, unmoving, before the second follows suit in the same way, falling forward and his face smacking against the wall.

It’s about as good of a signal that it’s safe to move as he’s going to get. York checks his shoulders before gripping his shotgun tight and sprinting towards the base. He slips into the guard hut, where he finds Tex waiting for him.

“I’m going ahead.” She tells him. “Follow in four on my mark. And York?”  
  
“Yeah?”

“Try and keep a low profile.”

York frowns and watches as Tex slips away from him, whispering a _“mark”_ into her helmet radio which York can only answer with a sync. He doesn’t have much time, so York lets himself get up properly and casts a look around the hut. There are little displays showing security footage. Not much, but it’s _something_.

“D, try and copy this for me. Or keep a feed going in my helmet.” York whispers to his partner. Delta pops up by one of the screens and his projection flickers. Acknowledgement.

It’s a few seconds of waiting before York is able to confidently go ahead and slip out of the hut. He tucks himself into the shadows, watches the feed that Delta’s maintaining for him, and sprints from wall to wall. It’s somewhere around the back of what looks like an administrative building that York finds his way in.

It’s a vent, probably connected to some sort of internal filtration system. The cover for the duct is nothing special, and so York sees an easy opening. All that he has to do is dismantle it and get in. York checks the trackers, which Delta makes sure to flash for added help. Seeing that it was clear, York kneels down and gets to work removing his tools from the little compartment in his gauntlet. In this case, all he needs is a screwdriver.

York gets the bolts open easy enough, checks the width of the opening, and thanks science for the filtration technology on his helmet before assuming the position and readying himself to go in. It’s a tight fit, but York’s slimmed down since the Mother of Invention went down. For the first time, it’s something that he’s grateful for.

Once he’s inside, York pulls the vent cover with him and sets it in place, like it had never been moved in the first place.

He checks the text channel he and Tex are using. 

TX: Where the fuck did you go?

NY: In the vents. We’ll be there.

TX: Don't blow this.

NY: Me and D have a camera feed. We can get there. Meet us near the data center on the third floor.

TX: Got it.

With that communicated, York closes out the text channel and begins to crawl through the vents, the same way that he'd done in a time before the Mother of Invention, and then had adopted when he didn’t want to be bothered.

The only difference was that now if he did such a thing York wasn’t likely to see reprimand from the Counselor or going to get a slap on the wrist for his transgressions. This time around, if he was caught, York had reason to assume there would be a shoot on sight order. Or something.

It’s a chilling thought. One that York knows he can’t shake easily. He tries to push it to the back of his mind, and makes sure to keep moving.

He places special attention to silence, and works his way through with a mixture of guesswork and checking his trackers and cameras for signs of where he might have been. Tex has a cloaking unit, so York’s confident that she could navigate a building without getting caught. Even if she did, Tex would just kick asses and take names without being bothered.  
  
But York really isn’t looking for a fight and he’s already in the damn vent, so he figures he might as well use it.  
  
' _York,_ ’ Delta's voice chimes in his mind, and York can't even begin to do enough to hide his relief over it. ' _There will be an opening coming up on your left side. It should lead us to a maintenance tunnel. With the main staff of the building on break, it is likely to be a good pathway._ ’  
  
"Thanks D." York whispers, turning his head almost violently in search of that opening. It peeks out, just in the corner of his vision. York crawls closer and casts a glance down the tunnel- it’s empty of anything more than dust. And what looks like what could have once been part of someone’s lunch. No rats, that’s the important thing. He takes a filtered breath, steels himself, and makes the turn.

Thankfully, Delta’s already recalculating their path to the designated meeting place. York creeps forward and whispers to his partner. "Let Tex know we’re on the way for me, would you?"  
  
"Acknowledged." Just like that, Delta flickers back away and his light went with him. York blinks and shook his head, following the vent until he was reaching an opening once more.  
  
The good thing about vents, York knows after too many years of making bad decisions and breaking laws and occasionally crashing spaceships, is that they can act as a light source, and that they open easier from the inside than the outside. All that he had to do was press out on it, then the damn thing fell open a little too loudly with a clatter.  
  
York hears the clang and freezes dead in his tracks before scrambling to reach out for the vent and pull it back into place. When York holds it there, it feels like he’s holding on for dear life. He lays there in the vent for a moment too long, looking for any sign that he was about to have company.  
Tex's voice comes in over the radio like a blessing. Or a godsend. Or something.  
  
"How are you doing out there York?" She asks, her voice quiet. For the first time York wonders whether she's using her voice modulator to send a message without saying a word out loud. Knowing _what_ she is, he figures that it's entirely possible that she could. He had just never considered the possibility before.  
  
"Alright." York whispers, and he feels himself relax a little when he realizes for certain that the coast was clear. He takes a breath before slipping out of the vent and replacing the cover where it should have been. He doesn’t bother to bolt it into place. He doesn’t have the time for it.

"On my way."  
  
"Good." Tex says, just as York is climbing into what is probably an old service elevator. It too, is thankfully empty of rats and York’s glad for it. "Delta, can you-"  
  
"Affirmative." Delta responds, his projection jumping out from York's shoulder as the lift begins moving. All that York needs for Delta to do is see whether or not it was possible to speed the damn thing up or not. If they could get to the third floor faster, then that was a _good_ thing.  
  
"What's going on there, York?" Tex asks, and she sounds thoroughly annoyed with him at that point.  
  
"In a service elevator, on my way up." York tells Tex, letting himself stand and stretch his legs. He leans against the wall, just for a second. "What's going on for you?"  
  
"Third floor." Tex growls back at him, "By the data center _you_ wanted me to meet you at. Where you should already be."  
  
"Yeah, well I'm sorry that I don't-" York stops talking when he realizes that the elevator felt like it might have been moving faster. Delta had done his job, and is already beginning to show an updated version of the camera feeds that they had, trackers in motion for them. "I don't have cloaking, okay?"  
  
"Yeah," Tex growls back at him, but there’s an edge of almost-softness to it. "I know."  
  
"I'll be there in a minute." York whispers into his radio as he slips out of the elevator and into a hallway. He gives a quick check over his shoulder for company on both sides before hurrying his way down the hall, clutching his magnum just in case the entire way. “Promise.”  
  
"I am real close to opening this door without you, York."  
  
York winces internally, because he knows _exactly_ what would happen if Tex did things _her_ way. Mostly, every alarm would go off in the damn building and they were going to have something to deal with themselves. York really isn’t in the mood for a fight either.  
  
"I'm almost there." York hisses as he slides around a hallway, skidding a little bit on the linoleum before finally seeing the door. "Just cover me." He asks, and just like that Tex seems to all but melt out of the shadows. She positions herself at his back as York finally got a first look at the door.  
  
The second that he sees the lock mechanism and activation, York's stomach drops and his heart sinks. Holographic lock, because _of course_ it was.

Like that, York realizes that this is going to be a lot harder than he’d initially anticipated. He glances back at Tex, unable to help the guilty feeling already starting to settle in his stomach. “Could use you out here, D.” He mutters.

On command, Delta’s projection appears by York’s right shoulder.

“Correction and detection only.” York tells Delta as he reaches out and taps on the lock mechanism. “If something’s weird, tell me. I’m not interested in that bullshit like-”

“Acknowledged.” Delta replies before York can even finish talking. The blue holograph leaps forward at him, too fast for York to track properly without perfect vision.

Showtime.  
  
"Dammit, York." Tex hisses, looking back at him over her shoulder and seeing the lock- possibly for the first time. Hopefully for the first time. "You're going to be able to get this, right?"  
  
"I’m really loving the vote of confidence, Tex." York says, flexing his fingers and allowing himself to slide them into the first layer of the mechanism. The little magnetic implants in his fingertips react immediately, and York can almost feel the give of the lock as though it were a mechanical one. Without that feeling, a holographic lock was unworkable. Since most people didn't have little implants in their fingertips or specialized gloves, that made holographic locks so much more secure.  
  
But York, despite everything, is ultimately a professional, and he has everything that he needs to be able to do his job.  
  
"How long do you need?"  
  
"I don’t know. Could take a minute or two." York answers, doing his absolute best not to allow himself to jerk back from the lock and risk setting it off. He needed to concentrate, breaking it would get them both into trouble. "Could take longer. Give me 45 seconds at the least."

“You know that we don’t exactly have that much time.” Tex hisses at him, but she was there at his back anyways. York needs it, more than anything. More than he’s willing to admit. Even if he's about to be shot, he needs to know that Tex is going to be there covering him the entire time.

So York takes his first really good look at the lock, wracking his memory to remember which model it is because to say that he’s out of practices is probably generous and he knows it. York can’t even remember the last time he’d looked at a patent document. He hasn’t worked anything more than an encrypted lock in months. He pulls his left hand away from it, feeling for a twist or something that would give him an indication.  
  
And there it is, the feeling of something twisting against his right hand. Just as quick, York slides his left back in and concentrates because it was an important first step out of the way. “I know that we don’t have time.” York mutters back to Tex. “But if you want to get us in without a chance of setting off alarms, you need to give me as much as we can afford.”  
  
Delta lights the area between York and the lock, his light intermingling with the blue of the lock, which York has at this point identified as a Charon model, possibly a few years old. "Agent York," Delta starts. "I have detected an irregularity with the lock."  
  
"What is it, D?" York asks, pausing because he has a feeling that he wasn't going to have much leeway if Delta was bringing up there being some sort of problem.  
  
"There appears to be a purge trigger embedded into the lock." Delta explains, his hologram shooting into place beside York's right hand. "Should you trip an alarm, the sensitive data stored here is likely to be destroyed."  
  
"And if that happens will you be able to do anything to get it?" York asks, doubling down on his work and concentrating as best as he can. He's glad that Tex hasn't heard this conversation just yet, if only because he knows that if she starts on him he's not going to be able to hold it together. The mission will crumble under his fingers the same way that every other one did once the pressure got to be too bad.  
  
At least he didn't have the Director shouting in his ear this time.  
  
"Negative." Delta responds. "I will continue to assist to the best of my abilities."  
  
"Thanks." York mumbles, finally working his way all the way through the first layer of the lock and going down into the second one. "Could use your help here. I think it’s symmetrical."  
  
Delta's hologram disappears, and York could feel a slight shiver run down his left arm as he recognized that Delta was sliding into place, taking over his nerves for just a bit so that the two of them could stay stable. At the very least, Delta can keep any tremors in check and match with York’s organic pace.

The two of them work together, opening the second layer and moving into the third. The third is the hardest to navigate by far, a mostly round ball of sorts with various bumps, edges, and ridges. York blinks, headache already beginning to set in and takes a deep breath. He knows _what_ he needs to look for, he just needs to be able to find it. That's hard when it feels like his left arm isn't his own, and his vision is getting blurrier.  
  
"Delta-" York hisses under his breath. "Look for a dividing point. If you find it, let me know."  
  
"Acknowledged." Delta says, but the relative silence is worrying.  
  
There's a gunshot that makes York jolt in surprise because he hadn't been expecting it _at all_ . He holds his hands as still as he can, glad that Delta still has control on the left and looks over his shoulder to see that Tex has disappeared on him, and he doesn't have a chance to contact her or jump into battle himself.  
  
"Shit." York says, reaching in deeper into the lock. "Delta, about that kill mechanism-" He feels like he should be shaking like a leaf but _can’t._  
  
"What the hell do you mean there's a kill switch?" Tex snarls from behind York, and he relaxes when he realizes that she's just cloaked.  
  
"Don't mind it!" York replies, a little too quickly. "D, how much time would we have-"  
  
"Roughly fifteen seconds." Delta responds. "We would have a 35% chance of success-"  
  
"D, what have we talked about?"  
  
"Not telling you the odds." Delta makes York twitch in the left leg, but not nearly enough to make him move around too much. "I apologize."

“Thank you, Delta.” York mutters when he finally sees the break that he was looking for. He takes a breath and doesn’t allow himself to release it until he’s slid his fingers into it and has begun to carefully pry it apart, twisting and turning it like it’s a padlock until the door opens with a click. York pulls his hands back from the door and stands up immediately.  
  
Tex shoots him a _very_ dirty look and while York feels the immediate urge that tells him to get out of there before she can punch him, he just makes his way into the room with her, and as soon as the door closes he hits the switch on the side of it to lock it back shut. At the very least, they weren’t going to have company unless its someone that can open it themselves.  
  
“What the hell was going on there?” Tex all but shouts at York as he makes his way over to the computer. He’s already in the process of getting Delta to unhook. “Were you about to-”  
  
“It’s done!” York responds as he pulls the storage chip that Delta’s put himself on out of the slot on his armor. “Don’t worry about there being a killswitch. We would have known if we’d set it off. We’re in”  
  
“You mean if _you’d_ set it off.” Tex growls back but she makes her way over to his side anyway. There’s the sounds of people on the other side of the door talking and making a commotion amongst themselves, but they’re going to have to make it work.  
  
“Semantics.” York mutters as he makes his way over to the first computer he can see that looks like it would be useful to them. It’s a desk that has more notes and paperwork on it than others, so it feels like a good starting point. Even if they can’t get in normally, York knows that Delta has put together all sorts of functions to get them through a few measly passwords.  
  
He drops down into the computer chair and slips Delta into place and waits for a moment before a small black command prompt box appears with Delta’s signature shade of green for the text. It's comforting, and York tries a few common passwords and old codes that he'd hobbled together during his time in Freelancer. When nothing works, Delta takes control and he watches as text appears in the command prompt, almost so fast that his eyes can't track it.  
  
Tex hovers over his shoulder, her arm braced on the back of his chair behind his left shoulder. York feels a little apprehensive about it, but doesn't bring it up. She's quiet when she asks him about it. "So Delta's looking for files?"  
  
"Files, schedules, just about anything that could be useful." York mumbles. "At the very least he'll be able to get us better blueprints. More up to date information-"  
  
He cuts himself off mid sentence when a image appears on the screen, a real-time map of the facilities, with each person in armor marked, save for him and Tex. York blinks and looks over at Tex. "So I guess we did change Freelancer after all."  
  
"Tracking their own men?" Tex asks, looking back at him for confirmation that was what he was talking about and that it wasn't just him running his mouth. York wants to be offended, but he can't find it in him. "Yeah, guess so."  
  
"Delta," York says out loud because Delta will be able to hear him no matter what. "Can you copy that and send it to us?" He asks before getting a copy of the map sent to his helmet. York smiles behind his visor because there's no way that Tex wasn't gotten the same things.  
  
Tex nods and decides that it's her turn to speak to Delta. "D, if you can just copy the drives." She commands, like she knows that there isn't even a single way in which Delta would even dream of disobeying the order. There's a quiet beeping noise, and a progress bar appears, and the two of them watch as it moves closer and closer to finished.  
  
The banging at the door and the shouting gets louder. York swallows hard.  
  
"Tex-"  
  
"Yeah, I've got it." She responds. Tex takes a few steps away and out of the corner of his eye York watches as she cracks her knuckles, then her neck, and then flips a table into place to act as a shield of sorts. York isn't personally a fan, but they're going to need every advantage that they can get. Especially when they're already low on supplies. "Get Delta and we're getting out of here."  
  
"Working on it!"

And yeah, York is at a point where he's beginning to panic. He sees Delta give the sign that it’s okay to remove his drive, and yanks it out perhaps a little more roughly than he should have. York makes a note to apologize to Delta for that later, but doesn’t dwell on it in favor of slipping the drive back into its slot in his armor.  
  
He picks up his shotgun and jogs over to the door, placing himself securely at Tex’s side. The map that Delta had taken is beyond useful, and it gives York plenty to prepare for. Between him and Tex, the two of them are going to be able to fight through without too much trouble. It’s just a matter of the two of them needing some sort of plan to use.  
  
“What do you think, Tex?” York says, pumping his shotgun in preparation for what was to come. “Who throws themself into the middle of the fight first?”  
  
Tex shoots him a look from behind her helmet, and York raises an eyebrow from within his own. Already he has a bad feeling for what is coming next, and he really doesn’t want to see it play out.  
  
“You first.” She says, standing up. “You’ve got the shotgun. Go in and give them a spray, then I’ll get us through here.”  
  
York nods and places himself in front of the door. Tex slips into position at its side, by its control panel.  
  
“I love that when they handed out upgrades,” York mutters while doing what he can to try and hide just how frustrated with it he was. “They decided that _I_ was going to be the expendable one.”  
  
"I'm sure they were just hoping it would shut you up." Tex responds as she waits, preparing to go in right behind York.

* * *

 

She slips into nothingness, bringing up the comforting absence that the active camo unit in her armor can only provide. The two of them count down, both waiting until Delta gives the mark. It feels like an eternity, but Delta gives the command, and Tex bursts into action like she has a wire in her that was drawn so tight that it had finally just gone ahead and snapped. It’s at the very least, a break in the tension.  
  
She slams her elbow into the control on the door and watches as it opens wide. York, already poised for a fight unloads the first shell he has into the crowd in front of him. She watches as they're knocked back and York flings himself into action in that way of his that bordered constantly on being a mix of stupid, reckless, and downright suicidal. He's trying to fight his way through on hand to hand combat alone, but that won't be enough.

She doesn’t leave her teammates behind.  
  
Tex leaps in after him, using the space that she has to give herself a running start and launch into the fray herself, her feet directed straight at a visor. The man that she hits gets launched back into the wall, leaving behind a more than sizable dent. It only adds to the confusion, but by that point York is already slipping out and breaking into a sprint towards a window at the end of the hall.  
  
Tex knows _exactly_ where this is going, and has to wonder just how much of York's behavior came from working beside Carolina in the field rather than something logical like common sense or some sort of ingrained survival instinct. At the very least, she can trust that Delta is there in York's head giving instructions the entire way.

Not that it helps much, among the amount of gunfire and chaos whirling around them.

It doesn't matter at all once she flings herself out the window behind them and braces herself for the three story drop.  
  
York lands in a roll and is on his feet and sprinting towards a mongoose as fast as he can, and Tex is quick to overtake him. She launches herself onto it and before she gets a chance to realize it York is behind her back, arms around her waist, and shouting in her ear that the two of them need to _go._  
  
She drives as fast as she can as far from the facility as possible, glad that she's the one steering because she doesn't know just how deep York and Delta have linked at this point and she _really_ doesn't want to find out that York is really suffering as far as his vision goes the hard way. Tex just puts all of her focus into driving, and gets them out of there.  
  
Hours later, the two of them are pulling up in the safe location that Delta had selected for them. Tex tries to dismount from the mongoose first, but only gets stopped by a particularly sluggish York. She helps him off and the two of them stagger inside for the empty bed so that they can finally look over what they have and put themselves to work.  
  
York drops onto it wordlessly, and for the first time that night Tex realizes that there is bright red on his armor, and she can't be sure whose it is.  
  
"York." She says, keeping her voice as hard and as commanding as possible. "Are you hit?"  
  
"Just a scratch." York mumbles, sounding a little bit distant. There's a pause, and then Delta is projecting into the near emptiness of the room.  
  
"Agent York sustained two bullet wounds during the battle. I have been at work with his healing unit attempting to repair the damage."

The thing about this is that Tex is _glad_ to know that Delta is active and doing his job. York is as much her partner is he is Delta's, so neither of them can really afford for him to be hurt, but that doesn't keep her from getting frustrated with York anyways.  
  
How long had be been in pain without saying so much as a word to her about it? How hadn't she noticed it in all of the confusion? It should have been obvious, but York hadn't said a word. Maybe it had been the adrenaline rush keeping him up.  
  
"Thank you, Delta." Tex says to the AI, knowing fully well that it is all that she is going to be able to say at this point. Talking to York directly is probably going to be out of the question for a little bit- at the very least it is until she knows what she is actually dealing with on his end. "You know we couldn't have done any of that without you."  
  
"I am here to assist." Delta responds before his projection flickers out, just as quickly as it had first appeared. She feels a certain affection towards Delta. The two of them will probably talk that over later, but for the time being, she needs to look after York.  
  
Tex sets her things down on a small table that was tucked into the corner of the room that the two of them were calling home. She begins to slip out of her armor, bit by bit until she is only in the undersuit that feels as much like skin as the synthetic texture that covers her bones.  
  
"So," Tex says, not bothering to look back over her shoulder at York. "How long have you been bleeding out?"  
  
"Around the time with the window." York mumbles. He shifts a little bit in the spot where he's laid down. Tex takes a seat nearby, watching how York's back rises and falls. There's an almost stutter to it, and that's when Tex realizes that York is drugged up and undergoing some sort of microsurgery. "I've been through worse.” He says it like this is routine. Something that he can just be _used to._  
  
"You know that isn't an excuse." Tex responds to him. York shifts on the bed, reaching for his armor and taking his sweet time to get at the storage slot on it. She watches him fumble with it before removing the chip in it and offering it to her. Tex takes it, feeling it beneath her fingers.  
  
If she wanted to, she could probably pull away from herself and try to sink down into the code and see what is on it for herself. Tex doesn't know if it would freak York out at all. She just sets the chip down on the table before walking over to the bed and seating herself on it.  
  
York looks up at her, his mismatched eyes still hidden away from her behind his visor.  
  
"How're you doing, anyways?"  
  
"Delta'll put me back together." York mumbles, clearly exhausted. "Just gotta..." He picks his hands up and Tex can see the way that his entire body seems to tense with with the motion. "Just gotta let him do it."  
  
She reaches out for York's hands and gently presses them back down to his sides on the mattress. They go with her, weakly. Tex feels a pang of something terrible, so she looks over, reaching out for Delta already.  
  
Without her needing to say a single word out loud, Delta is there.  
  
"It will be unsafe to remove York from his armor fully for some time." Delta explains, having clearly already predicted what Tex had wanted to ask him about. "He may need to remain in his breastplate for at least another hour."  
  
"Can I get his helmet off?" Tex asks, because something about making York lie there in armor when he is already in pain seems cruel.  
  
"You may." Delta says, his head bobbing and his projected gaze settling on York's face. "I will be able to maintain his medication and microsurgery without it."  
  
"Thank you, Delta." Tex says. "York, can you-"  
  
He tries to pick up his head, but before he has to do anything extra, Tex has her hands on the sides of his helmet, supporting it as they slid down to the catches on it. She hears the air hiss out, and removes the helmet as gingerly as she can.  
  
York's head settles against her thigh, and he looks exhausted, in pain, and far away from her. His hair is matted with sweat and messy. He’s pale. None of it looks good on him.  
  
"Hey, Allison." York mumbles, the words coming out slurred. "I feel floaty."  
  
"You would, York." Tex laces her fingers through York's hair, petting it down gently. It sticks up insufferably at the front, and she is surprised to find that there isn't even a touch of gel there.

York's eyes slip shut in a way that tells Tex that he is more than just a little bit content. For a long time the two of them sit there, with York all but asleep or unconscious while Tex does what little she can to offer him comfort.  
  
Her hand passes through his hair again, and Tex feels the gentle press of his head into her touch. She sighs, even though there isn't any reason for her to do so- its one of those things that she realized early on that she could do. It was along the same lines as blinking- it didn't do anything for her, but it made her blend with humanity more.  
  
"We got it." York mumbles when he's finally coming back around. "The data, we got it, right?"  
  
"Yeah." Tex answers as she pulls her hand away from York's hair. He seems to take the lack of contact with some sort of disappointment. Instead of complaining York lets out a huff and pushes himself upright.  
  
"D?" He asks, his voice small and meek in ways that didn't even begin to suit York. "Can I get out of this stuff yet?"  
  
There is a long pause, and Tex watches York get this almost shy inverted look that crosses his face. He smiles just slightly when he apparently hears something that he likes, and Tex watches as York climbs out of the bed on shaky legs.  
  
His hands tremble as he begins to get at the catches on his breastplate, and when it falls to the ground carelessly Tex can't help but cringe. York is probably too exhausted to care at the moment, if the way that he just immediately strips down out of his undersuit is any indicator.  
  
Apparently the fact that he has more than a little company is something that doesn't occur to York much either.  
  
Something down in Tex, buried deep in her own code tells her that the best thing to do is avert her eyes. York is military, and she is too. Between the two of them there should be no care towards nudity whatsoever, but Tex worries anyways.  
  
She doesn't though. Her eyes fall on York's form as the undersuit slips off of his body and reveals the golden tan skin beneath. The fresh scars are there on his shoulder, and York cranes his neck a little bit to get a look at them.  
  
Really, the work that York's healing unit is capable of doing is nothing short of impressive. He has a new scar formed, red and angry and probably sensitive. York reaches out and lets his fingers prod at the wound gingerly. His wince speaks for itself.  
  
"You're going to be fine, right?" Tex asks, leaning back on the bed and watching York. The best thing that she can do is distract him away from her presence. They are there to do a job, everything else is on the side and there isn't room to let themselves get distracted, regardless of what was going on.  
  
"Should be." York says, sounding a little off when he talks. "You know, I would love to do something that doesn't require me to get shot for a living." He turns back to her, standing there in little more than a pair of black compression shorts and a knee brace on his left leg. She hadn’t realized that he uses a brace or _anything_ of the sort.  
  
"I can imagine." Tex responds. York walks over to join her on the bed and leans forward, detaching the brace from his leg and letting it drop down onto the floor with the same lack of care as he'd shown with the breastplate. She ends up on his left, and can only notice the patchwork that his skin is on that side.  
  
It starts with the scars on his face, but his legs and arms had only been so protected. There’s also a mess of tissue around his waist where the shrapnel had clearly gotten him.  
  
The guilt that stabs at Tex is very, very real.  
  
Despite all of it, he's... attractive. In a way that nobody really had been to her before aside from...  
  
She doesn't let herself follow _that_ specific line of thought. For both of their sakes.

York settles though, leaning back into the bed and reaching out for a blanket so that he could pull it over himself. Tex watches him and decides to lie back herself, because maybe being there and joining him isn't such a bad idea. She doesn't have to think about how good he looks there in the hotel light. She can think about how he is there, alive and real and all in one piece.  
  
Tex stands up and takes a few steps away from the bed to slip out of her own undersuit. She hears the creak of the bed, and when she glances back over at her companion she realizes that he is watching her.  
  
Something in his expression is off though, far away and distant almost like...  
  
Tex shakes the thought and turns to York, crossing her arms over her chest once the top she was wearing under her armor had been tugged down. "Is there a problem?"  
  
She glares daggers at him, and for a second it seemed like York as going to shrink back. Instead he holds fast, the bob of his throat  obvious when he swallows. His eye is glued to her.  
  
"Nope." York mumbles. His voice is cracked, just slightly. Tex doesn't have to imagine the effect that she is having on York.  
  
She rolls her shoulders though and walks back over to the bed before dropping onto it next to York.  
  
York turns onto his side, slow and careful so that he can face her before reaching out for a blanket and tugging it over himself. His eyes seem to slip shut, but there's an uncomfortable pinch to his expression. He must be talking to Delta, Tex realizes. What they could be talking about at that point she doesn’t know.  
  
Tex lies back in the bed with York though. She doesn't need to sleep but playing along for a night like she can doesn't seem so bad. The situation can be intimate in itself without her needing to sleep.  
  
The two of them lie there for some time, side by side. York's breathing never evens out all the way, which leaves Tex fretting over whether he could have had some lung damage.  
  
Finally, early in the morning, York speaks.  
  
"This is weird, right?" He asks, voice barely even choked out for her to hear. "I mean-" He shakes his head. "You have someone else, right?"

Tex hesitated because that was a question that there wasn't an easy answer to. By all technicalities she had someone- but it wasn't clear. It wasn't something that she had ever had a choice in. It wasn't something that she was ever going to be able to truly heal from.  
  
No matter what, Tex was left with the gaping hole of memory in her. She had been taken and used, and she hates it.  
  
It was complicated, and at this point Tex didn't want to deal with complicated anymore. She wants to be able to rest and leave the things that Freelancer was behind her. She wants to be able to leave the person she was meant to be behind.  
  
York doesn't deserve complicated anymore either.  
  
"I don't know what I have." Tex says, keeping her voice down and turning her head so that she could meet York's eyes. He watches at her with some sort of expression that she had only seen him give others. "I guess that I could ask you the same question though."  
  
And just like that, Tex saw all of the life in York's eyes die. He looks away from her and lays back down again, settling his hands on his ribs like that was going to make him comfortable. It couldn't have been.  
  
There's a slight twitch to his neck, and Tex reaches out to touch York, but stops, her hand hovering inches away when she gets a ping from Delta that feels like _don't._  
  
"York?" Tex asks, bringing her hand back down. He ignores her, turning onto his side and curling into himself. For the first time since she and York reunited, Tex realizes that he is too small. He's getting muscle back and eating regularly seems to be helping but-  
  
He's broken.  
  
"I don't know." York mumbles. "You didn't-" He starts to say something and only cuts himself off, letting out an audible groan in the process. His head thumps into the pillow a little too hard and Tex imagines that is something that Delta is far from happy about. York curls up more, reaching back to place a hand over his neural implant port, where Delta is resting.  
  
"York, you don't have to-"  
  
He takes a deep breath, shuddering and too far away. "This is so fucked up." He chokes out, his shoulders trembling as he gets the words out. It sets off alarms in Tex's mind that this is _wrong_ . Something is wrong.  
  
She decides to sit quietly and wait instead of acting directly. If he wants to talk, then Tex will trust that York will do that himself.  
  
Finally, she watches him push himself upright, the puckered pink scars that were fresh on his skin moving with the motion. York grabs at the blanket on the bed and tugs it over his shoulders, almost burrowing into it for comfort.  
  
"You didn't know them like I did." York says finally, his voice far away and quiet. "And you're asking me to-"  
  
Tex blinks. "So there is someone else then?"  
  
York doesn’t say anything, but the vague gesture that he made with his hands managed to say even less than he could have out loud. "I don't know." He mumbles finally. "You're asking me to quantify things that-"  
  
"York?"  
  
He's quiet again, his face with that pinched inward look that it always gets when he is talking to Delta. There's a slight nod from York, him hugging himself at the same time. Tex watches his entire body tense all at once before relaxing once more.  
  
"Agent Texas," York's voice says, but it isn't quite him. The intonation is wrong and so is his cadence. "Agent York has asked that I assist him in this conversation. I hope that is alright."  
  
Tex is definitely peeved at that, because she now _knows_ that York is trying to dodge a conversation that he doesn't want to have. She isn't even sure that she wants to know what his answer to her question was anymore.  
  
"That's very kind of you, Delta." Tex says instead of giving a reprimand. She can trust Delta, she is sure of that. York can't lie for shit, but Delta will at least give the truth. "What does York need you to say?"  
  
"He is having difficulty with the word retrieval required for this conversation." Delta provides, York's expression passive and distant as he speaks. It's almost jarring, seeing the puppetry in motion and without a suit of armor in play. York's right eye stares straight ahead rather than at her. "I must ask for your patience with him on this matter."

Tex’s brow furrows because there is absolutely nothing right about this situation as it is now. She watches York’s face, knowing that it isn’t really him there under the hood. It’s just Delta, taking over and doing things that will inevitably leave York feeling exhausted, even more than he already was that day.

“Sure thing, Delta.” Tex says, mostly at a loss for anything else that she could have said to the Ai on the matter.

Where York would have done more or been more expressive, Delta just gives the absolute slightest of nod. He seems to take a conscious breath, but then begins to speak. “Agent York’s relationship to many of the Freelancers was complicated. He has yet to properly deal with these feelings and finds them upsetting.”

“What do you know, Delta?” Tex asks, knowing that she can at least try to get something out of him. “That he won’t tell me.”

“I only feel at liberty to give so much.” Delta responds to her, York’s voice still coming out stilted and his expression still distant. "I will only say that his romantic entanglements amongst your squad were often left undefined."

Tex can't help but feel some sort of guilt over that, because there were certain things that were known around the Mother of Invention that she had realized. While the Director and Counselor didn't necessarily know everything, there were open secrets among the agents. Once which she had eventually heard whisperings of while she was there.

York had once had _something_ with Carolina- the specifics were unclear on that one. He’d had something with North Dakota as well, but nobody had ever said what that could be. The point was that York slept around and everyone knew about it. Tex had only found out about it through the grapevine, but had never had reason to confront York about it.

It only made sense that it would be upsetting for him to try and talk about.

"I understand that, Delta." Tex says. She sits up and slips into the space that's at York-Delta's side. Delta gives only the slightest response, but it is so far from human in nature, even if he is attempting to match York's usual mannerisms. He shivers, and it ripples through York's body more like electricity than water. "I just wish that he and I could be honest with each other."

"I understand." Delta responds, York's grey eye flicking down to the ground for a second before flicking back up and straight ahead.

Tex realizes that Delta was avoiding looking at him for some reason.

"Delta-" Tex says, since this is at least a chance for her and the AI to talk without anything complicated happening. They should probably give York a chance to rest, all things considered, but-

But it's a chance to be with Delta, and for them both to feel a little bit more real.

"Agent Texas?" Delta asks, his head moving in a way that managed to look stiff. "Is there something wrong?'

"No." Tex replies, watching the AI in York's body. She picks her hand up and reaches over for the two of them, placing a gentle hand on York's shoulder and wondering whether or not Delta can feel it, or whether he’s able to derive comfort from the gesture. "I just wanted to let you know that you did well today."

"I am merely here to assist." Delta responds, and for a second Tex could have sworn that she'd seen the quirk of a smile beginning to form at the edges of York-Delta's lips. "Your performance should also be commended."

Slowly, carefully, Delta began to turn towards her, York’s full body moving with the puppetry. He picks up a hand, like he is testing the waters and reaches out for her and places his hand on her arm. Tex almost wants to shiver, even though it doesn't do her synthetic skin any benefit.

York’s fingers are rough and calloused over. They don’t suit Delta.

"That's very kind of you, Delta." She says, keeping her voice down and feeling almost afraid to see what would happen if she said much more. "I just wanted to thank you."

"I consider that to be unnecessary." Delta says, York's eye flicking down to the space between them and his face looking a little bit sad. "But I will thank you."

Tex lets her hand travel up York's arm, and she can practically feel Delta under it. She lets it move up and up and up until she is cupping York's scarred right cheek.

Delta stares ahead at her, mouth opening just slightly for... some reason.

It feels intimate, in a way that interaction with Delta never has. Like something has been stripped back away into something raw.

Tex wants to kiss him, but she can't bring herself to when she doesn't know how conscious York is underneath it all. Not when she doesn't know if he has calmed or if he's still upset. She feels a pull for Delta, the same that she did towards the Alpha, but the feeling is too hard to deal with and confront.

No matter what, she always finds herself wondering just how much control over _those_ feelings she actually has.

It's part of what makes keeping York around feel safe. She chose him, for better or for worse.

She doesn't know if she can choose Delta or not. She doesn’t know if it’s even possible.

Delta's eyes slip shut though, and Tex is too aware of the way that he tilts his cheek into her touch. Tex lets her thumb caress the scarring by York's eyes.

When they open again, the clarity is back in York's expression, Delta apparently having slipped back to where he belonged again. York seems less tense, all things considered.

Too intimate, Tex tells herself just before she tears her hand back to herself.

York smiles very weakly at her. "Hey." He croaks out at her, soft smile on his lips now that he's calm again. "Happy to see me?"

"You have no idea." Tex answers. She pulls her hand away and for a second she could have sworn that York was trying to chase her touch. Instead of thinking about that, she pat the space on the bed beside her. "Why don't you try getting some sleep?"

York nods and she watches as he lowers himself back down to the mattress, grabbing at a blanket and pulling it up over himself loosely.

Tex looks down at him as he makes himself comfortable, and feels something terrible akin to heartache.  
  
It isn't worth dwelling on. She lays down beside him and tries to power down, listening for the way that York's breathing eventually evened out.


	4. hardware

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> York and Tex try to make progress. Delta makes himself familiar with autopiloting software.

The two ( _technically_ 3, if those without bodies counted) of them had managed to get off-planet two days ago, and York has spent every waking moment of those two days adrift in space getting more and more antsy. They'd taken the Pelican that they'd stolen and everything in it, they had an idea of where they were going, and the plan was that they would actually be able to make some sort of progress on the insane plan they’re involved in.

Really, York knows that he should be relishing in the stolen Pelican as a place of safety. It functionally is, after all.

That didn’t make it easy though, since he feels a little bit like he might be going insane. One of the problems with small-craft spaceflight like they've been doing is there is _nothing_ to do. He’d thought that being homeless was bad, but it doesn’t even compare.

Which is bad. York knows that it’s _very_ bad, as a matter of fact. Delta has been quick to corroborate this point, which doesn’t exactly make things any better.   
  
He’s at a point where he’s close to telling Tex that they should ditch the ship and do everything on foot. Or at least stick to ground.

Which is stupid. Really stupid. Unbelievably stupid. So stupid that naive Wash or the Triplets could have come up with it.

York feels a pang of _something_ horrible but doesn’t dare allow himself to acknowledge it. For his own sake.

There is however, one upside to living on a Pelican.

It gives York a chance to get away from Delta for a bit. Delta sinks down into the autopilot for the Pelican and takes it over as best as he can. Delta isn't as interesting of a pilot as 479er ever was, but that’s not the point. The point is that it gives York a break where he doesn’t have to worry about someone else hearing or commenting on his every thought.

It also leaves York's head feeling too empty, and he ends up more and more emotionally mixed up than before.

Whatever balance he’d been hoping to strike, York genuinely has no idea what it is. Or whether it's even possible.   
  
In the end, it is a good thing that Tex is able to do most of the work to decrypt the files that they’d gotten away with. Delta and her tag team it a lot, which is helpful and all but York is-

He’s bored. He’s so goddamned bored. Being an emotional wreck on top of it makes it-  
  
Well, it isn't a _good_ thing, by any stretch of the imagination.   
  
"Do we have anything yet?" York groans, taking a seat on the air mattress in the back of the Pelican beside Tex. It sinks and shifts slightly with his weight, and York tries to relax into it himself. It doesn’t work. It’s still an air mattress and shitty to sleep on as a default. He’d been homeless and his shitty dumpster boxspring had been better.   
  
"A little bit." Tex responds, and she already sounds like she's annoyed with him. "Locations, mostly. A lot of logistics."   
  
"Well, that's _something_ ." York says with a groan. He blinks a few times. There are still a lot of things in the story that he isn't quite clear on, but York is fine with that. "Anything interesting?"   
  
"Do you find toilet paper acquisitions interesting?" Tex responds in a rather typical deadpan. “Or would you like to know about how much mayonnaise was sent to a sim base in exchange for a crock pot?”   
  
"A crock pot-” York is almost sidetracked by the mention but shakes his head. This is stupid. “No." York mumbles, lying back now and letting his legs flop out on the bed. He turns onto his side and looks up at Tex, letting his head rest beside her hip.   
  
She rolls her eyes and lets her hand drop to his head, fingers stroking through his hair like always. "There are some interesting things in here, I guess." She mumbles, eyes scanning over the documents. "Warehouses where they're storing old equipment, some logs for a unit by the name of Recovery. Not many details on what that is. I figure that it's worth looking into."   
  
"Any agent names?" York asks, feeling his voice break a little bit. He tries not to think about the members of their squad too much, because it always drags him down. The twins are missing. Reggie’s still probably a dick. Maine was nuts. CT, dead. Wash, nuts. Carolina was-

Carolina-   
  
Carolina was dead.   
  
Tex seems to hesitate on giving him an answer, and York wished that he could blame her for that.   
  
"Nothing here." Tex said, pulling her hand away from York's head. "If there was anything, I would let you know."   
  
"I know."   
  
"It's okay for you to miss them." Tex says, keeping her voice down almost unnecessarily. "You do know that, right?"   
  
And that was something that York truly wished he had a good response to, or an answer to. But as things were he felt mixed up and complicated, and he doesn't know how to handle any of the things that he is feeling.   
  
"I guess." He mumbles, letting his eyes close. York already feels that sadness settling in him. He pushes himself upright and tries his best to relax and calm down even though it isn’t going to happen easily. "I just..."   
  
"You miss them." Tex says quietly. "I get it."   
  
York shrugs, still looking for words that he can't bring himself to say out loud. He curls in against her side, and is surprised that Tex doesn't try to push him away from her at all. "I just wish that I knew how the others were doing. I know how you are, but-" He looks away. "It's been silence from everyone else. And it's killing me."

"You know that doesn't have anything to do with you, right?" Tex says, still clearly much more focused on her work than she was York.   
  
York huffs, very annoyed but didn't move away from Tex. She’s the closest thing that he had to human contact and York fully intends upon sticking close to her while he can. Somehow and against all the odds, Tex makes him feel better. Like they had a bond in the project beyond making sure that each other didn’t get killed or crashing a ship together.. "Of course I know that." He grumbles, looking up at Tex. "Me and D have talked about it a lot."   
  
"Good thing someone talks to you."   
  
It hurts a lot more than it should to hear it. York does what he can to immediately bury the feeling, but still can’t stop the frown and the shake of his head. "You know that if you don't want to talk to me you don't have to."   
  
And really, if she told him to just fuck off York would have gone with it. He would have gone and found something to do in that Pelican of theirs because there had to have been something. But he wanted to spend his time with Tex.   
  
Even if she asked him to be quiet, he would have just laid there and took a nap. What she’s doing instead hurts and he hates it.   
  
Tex goes quiet and sets down the datapad that she has been using. She looks down at York, and he meets her eyes, frowning the entire time.   
  
"You know that I want you around." Tex says, her synthetic storm grey eyes boring into his own. It almost makes him want to shrink back or hide. York doesn’t allow it. "You wanting to talk isn't changing that."   
  
"I know." York whispers. "I just know that I'm annoying you. Besides, you don't even-" He trips over his own thoughts and feelings just like that. Gestures vaguely with his hands and finds himself without the words he needs. "Do you even still need me here?"   
  
"I wish that I could tell you, York." Tex responds, turning to him fully now. It's enough to jostle him, which earns a whine out of York's throat. He pushed himself upright so that the two of them could look at each other face to face for a bit. "But I didn't exactly know how long this was going to go."   
  
And yeah, that was a whole thing, York knows that.   
  
She watches him. York feels like he is under a microscope through all of it.   
  
"Do you want to leave?" Tex asks him.   
  
"No." York says, shifting slightly on the bed and looking off to the side with his one eye like that was going to be able to help him out. "I- I just wish that I- we knew what we were getting into."   
  
"If we knew that we'd already be done." Tex says, her work all but forgotten. York is glad that Delta isn't necessarily sitting in on their conversation. He might be, but he isn't going to start to interject for himself. "What's your plan once this is over with?"   
  
York breathes out, his cheeks puffing out when he did so. York can't pretend like he will have anything to go back to. The way that his life had been going before Tex had decided that she wanted to pick him up was that he would relocate. He'd keep on staying off the map and living from day to day. What else did he even have?   
  
She looks at him sadly, sympathetically. "There's no plan, is there?"   
  
"You know me." York starts, putting on the widest smile that he can and doing his best to feign confidence. "I always have a plan. The best at tactics."   
  
"You're still a bad liar, York."   
  
"Yeah." He laughs, shaking his head. It feels bitter in his mouth. "I know."   
  
"I guess that we're in this for the long haul. I get what I need, you get what you need, and then after that we go our separate ways again."   
  
Tex has the loveliest eyes, York thinks as he looks across at her. Impossibly perfect grey, harsh and cold and surely not real, but lovely all the same. They'd been undoubtedly chosen for her for a reason, but York tries his best not to think about that. Tex is there, real and human. That's what matters. Not whether she would bleed black oil or red blood if she was injured.   
  
For just a second, York almost feels a little bit in love. He doesn't quite know why. Maybe it's just Delta starting to rub off on him in all of the worst ways. The prick.   
  
"Yeah." He says, swallowing hard. "You know, I think I'm gonna miss you."   
  
"I'll miss you too, York." Tex says, patting his knee. Affectionate, but removed.

“I knew you loved me.” York mumbles, letting his hand drop down on top of Tex’s like he is making some sort of effort to capture her. For some reason, he wants to be able to lean in and kiss her, at least show her that he’s there and that for some time he won’t be going anywhere. The problem is that York can’t know how real those feelings are, when they feel like they could just be residual Delta.   
  
Delta, wearing off on his feelings. If it had been a year or two before, York wouldn't have thought that was even possible. But here he was, knowing that Delta had wanted to kiss Tex the last time that the two of them had been able to talk one on one. He’d felt it even as he ‘rested.’ It’s been seeping into his thoughts more than it should have.   
  
York didn't know that he would have minded it, but Delta holding off was a comfort to him. One that he wasn't going to take for granted. One that he _couldn’t_ take for granted.   
  
Tex rolls her eyes though. "I wouldn't say that." She says, pulling back away from York and patting the bed beside her to convince him to lie back down and try to relax there. York crawls back into place and tugs the light blanket that they had found in one of the storage areas on the Pelican over his body. Even with him in his undersuit, it was chilly out in space. Pelicans weren’t climate controlled like the Mother of Invention was.   
  
"You want to." York teases, shifting and tossing and turning in an attempt to make himself more comfortable there. "You know you like me."   
  
"Well, I'm not so sure right now." Tex says. She makes herself comfortable on the bed again, and York watches her pick up the datapad again so that she can get back to work. "You know that you could try to be useful."   
  
"Nah." York grumbles, closing his eyes because if he does that he can feel a little bit further away from Tex, at least for the time being. "Reading gives me headaches. That’s why I make Delta do it. Besides, I think he likes it."   
  
She goes silent, and York can feel her eyes on him. "Is that a _before_ the three on one thing, or an _after_ the three on one thing?" She almost sounds... sad. And that's something that York doesn't like at all because after everything they've been through Tex shouldn't be feeling sad about anything. “The headaches, I mean.”   
  
"Uh... after." York says, dropping his volume and his pitch so that he could match Tex. "You know that I don't..." He takes a deep breath, not entirely sure that he was about to go telling the truth. When it came to what happened, he never did really know what he felt.   
  
He knew that he was angry, but not at Tex. Tex was the last person that he was angry at.   
  
He takes a breath. "I don't hold all of that against you. It was all Reggie, and Maine, but I don't think that Maine had as much to do with it as it seemed."   
  
"He's the one that threw the grenade." Tex says, her free hand drifting over to him and settling on York's shoulder. "I wouldn't expect you not to be angry at him."   
  
"Wyoming's the one that brought the live ammo into the room." York retorts with a bitter laugh. "And he _asked_ me to go into it. Like we used to back at the beginning when we were friends. Said it would be something to break up the monotony. The asshole."   
  
His eyes widen at the realization that him being friends with Wyoming before might be something that Tex didn't know about. Of course, back things had been normal and way less complicated. That was back when Freelancer was still just an attempt at a silver bullet program and everyone had been under the impression that the team would _matter_ . Back then, York was happy to spend his shore leaves with Wyoming, North Dakota, and even Illinois. The times where Carolina ended up coming along with them had always been a treat.   
  
And now York only knew that his friends were scattered to the winds.   
  
"I didn't know you used to be friends." Tex says.   
  
"I was the golden boy." York mumbles, trying to brush it off and trying hard not to think about it all too hard. "Everyone liked me."   
  
"You know that's not true."   
  
"Most people like me."   
  
"Also not true." Tex corrects, smirking. "I can think of several in your squad that didn't."

"Nah," York says, leaning in against Tex a little bit more. "They didn't say it, but they loved me." He lets his eyes slip shut, and can't help but feel a little bit more lonely where he is than he should. Without Delta there bouncing around in his head he feels kind of empty.   
  
"You keep telling yourself that, York." Tex says quietly. "You know that we have to get to work though."   
  
"Work on what?" York mutters. "It's not like we can have Delta help you out with the decoding with him also running the autopilot. I can't fly a ship."   
  
Tex rolls her eyes. "You could try doing it yourself."   
  
"I know." He muttered. "But I'm not good at reading much anymore. Not unless you want me to get a lot of headaches or something."   
  
She was quiet. York saw Tex shake her head before going back to the things that she was working on and getting back to work. York went quiet beside her and closed his eyes, since he could at the very least rest and make sure that he won't end up exhausted.   
  
He finds himself wishing that Tex could actually sleep along with him. But that isn't going to be possible, not when they are leagues apart in who and what they are.   
  
While he sleeps, Tex decrypts the datapad.

York’s pretty sure she does it out of guilt. If that is her reason, he doesn’t want to know.

* * *

 

Delta doesn’t know that he actually likes swimming around deep in the hardware of a Pelican. It leaves him feeling something akin to indistinct, but in a much different way than it did when he is with York. York can at least feel and react. A Pelican is just that- cold, dead, and unfeeling. A tool.

Delta doesn’t like being locked up in the machinery the way that he was. He doesn’t like being left to control a ship while everything else lives and breathes and interacts. It feels like a prison that he has no means of escaping, despite him knowing that he possesses that very capability.  
  
Delta knows the probabilities for just about everything that could possibly happen to them. He knows the exact amount of time that it was going to be before they needed to find somewhere to dock and refuel. He knows the exact amount of time that they had spent in space.

According to his precise records and calculations, it had been close to six hours since he last spoke to either Tex or York in a direct fashion. Not hearing from York leaves him worried, because he can only do so much when he’s acting as autopiloting software. He can't check in on his partner's vitals whenever he starts worrying, or slip down into York's healing unit to check in on his injuries again. He can't talk to York from the quiet of the Pelican's controls.   
  
He’d also realized very quickly that the ship's autopilot was nothing like conversation with FILSS. FILSS at the very least can maintain a conversation of sorts- she was programmed with that capability from her inception.   
  
The autopilot can not. All that it can do was feed him coordinates and turn a control remotely. Dead, unfeeling, and uncaring. Artificial in ways beyond even what Delta is as a fragment.   
  
There's movement in the back of the ship, one of the sensors tells him. Delta pulls back away from the autopilot for a moment, zipping back along circuitry and onboard systems until he's settled into the speaker that fed into the boarding area where York and Tex are staying.   
  
Tex is hard at work, he has to guess. The mic in the speakers picks up the sound of York's quiet breathing, and Delta knows that he is assuredly asleep. It’s a comfort, of sorts.   
  
"Agent Texas." Delta says, double checking to keep the speakers down so that he wouldn’t startle her or risk waking York.

"Yes, Delta?" She responds, her voice also quiet. It's just loud enough that the mic can pick it up. "What is it?"  
  
"Has there been any significant progress with the data decryption?"   
  
"Not much, Delta." Tex grumbles. "I almost want to switch jobs with you so that I don't have to do this anymore."   
  
Delta pauses for a fraction of a millisecond, his mind going from possibility to possibility and looking for the best possible angle. Somewhat satisfied with what he came up with, Delta spoke up.   
  
"Have you considered using the Omega AI to assist you?" He asks, not entirely sure what the answer he'll get is.   
  
"Not really, Delta." Tex replies. "I don't trust him when I'm around-" She goes quiet, and Delta is able to extrapolate that she is referring to York.   
  
"I understand." Delta says calmly, not sure that he actually feels that way. "Is York doing well?"

"He seems to be doing well enough, D." Tex says to the speaker. "Probably wouldn't be doing as well without you."  
  
Delta seeks his memory and data banks to try and figure out what Texas means specifically. He knows York rather well, inside and out, and down to details which he could guess York had even forgotten about himself. He knew the details of York's very being, and where the man had come from and the name that he had bore before York.   
  
In a way, there is an intimacy to that which Delta believes that he wasn't originally created to be able to experience. There were things within his learning algorithms that hadn't been easily accounted for. Delta knew better than anyone else in the world, human or AI, what York was in his essence.   
  
The months since the crashing of the Mother of Invention- and even some of the months leading up to it had been characterized by constant sadness and loneliness from York. Delta had been forced to ride along when York had been hurting and feeling as though he had been pushed away from the others in his unit.   
  
It hadn't been pleasant. Not even for a second.   
  
Tex being there had given him some relief from York's sadness, and had ignited a metaphorical spark in him. She made him feel as though they were at home, and York had seemed to feel the same way. Even when the reality is far from it.   
  
"I am not so sure." Delta responds, when that's the best possible answer he can give. It's the closest to what he thinks that York would say. "York has been... lonely in the months since the fall of the Mother of Invention."   
  
"You've still done a lot for him," Tex says, and Delta can agree to that. "You should be proud."   
  
"I believe that I am." Delta says. He wishes that he could reach out for Tex and make himself at home in her armor for the time being while York rests. If he could do that, then Delta could do something to aid in the decryption process. Instead, he is with the autopilot and unable to be sure that it could actually do its job. "I do what I can to assist."   
  
Tex laughs quietly, but Delta recognizes soon that she has sank back down into her work again. He zips back away from the speaker, careful to leave the slightest sound to make sure that Texas knows that is the case.   
  
Delta rides along the highways of circuitry and makes himself at home in a camera that points towards the back of the Pelican.   
  
Tex comes into his view, York slumbering quietly at her side on his stomach and with one arm thrown across her lap. She has her datapad resting partially on York's back, but York doesn't seem to be aware of it. If anything, Delta could only guess that he has found some sort of sweet physical bliss in the contact.   
  
He wishes that he could have the same as Texas did. He knew the complicated status which she had well enough, and yet Delta cannot avoid a sense of jealousy. Delta wasn't the only one of his brothers that had felt as such, wishing that they had bodies of their own, but with Texas it feels as though it has been amplified.   
  
She- Texas, Beta, Allison- she will be strong and she will use her body to the best of her abilities. Delta will do what he can to be there for her and support her. He will calculate what a scenario with his own would look like, but he doesn't have the creative spark that Theta or Sigma had.   
  
When he tries to construct an image for himself, it is hard to pin down or solidify. He’s never looked for an avatar beyond the armor he projects himself wearing.   
  
The face falls between two people, the shoulders clearly York's but the voice his own. He would have two eyes, but he doesn't know that he wants them to be the same vibrant green that he chooses to project himself with. The red that he uses when he is alarmed is similarly ill suited to what Delta would want.   
  
He wonders about Texas, about her body.  Does her synthetic skin feel and sense in the same way that York's natural skin does? Can she feel warmth, or pressure, or texture? What would it feel like to crawl into her head and her consciousness and properly exist alongside her.   
  
Delta is jealous. He is _jealous_ and he will not be able to forget about that fact.   
  
Texas sets her datapad down at her side, having decided that she no longer wants to use York as some sort of table. She lets her hand fall on York's shoulder gently, stroking down his skin almost like she is following the grain of fur.   
  
She's as gentle with York as she can manage. She is just enjoying York's presence, as Delta would.   
  
He wishes that he were the one in her place.   
  
That strange feeling that Delta learned to characterize as jealousy from York long ago reappears, and he zips back away from the cameras and the microphones once more to settle in alongside the ship's autopilot.   
  
Focusing on Tex's body would bring none of them any good. He would do his best to ignore it in the coming days and simply try to look in on York and be there for his assignee when he was needed.   
  
Delta has too many reasons to doubt that voicing those feelings or thoughts would do any good.


	5. the many problems with plan "o"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I would start by abandoning that flesh puppet of yours."

Tex was at the point where she was getting  _ very  _ irritated with the lack of progress that had been made on the decryption process. For days they had been hiding out in space, doing what they could from the back of the Pelican and only moving the ship when they strictly needed to get fuel, or some other resource. Delta had been doing his best to help out, and York had done his best to help as well, but there wasn't all that much that he could  _ do _ .    
  
With the way that things were going, it was starting to feel like they would never get it dealt with.    
  
The time was frustrating enough for her to deal with.    
  
Part of the reason it was getting frustrating had to do with York. Specifically, the problem was that as York got more and more comfortable with her and with the Pelican, the more and more York tended to stop caring about things. 

It wasn’t that he wasn’t doing anything to help. It was that he was becoming too nonchalant, the same way that he had been back in Freelancer. On top of that, he was rather  _ tactile. _   
  
That meant that Tex had far too much time to get rather familiar with York's body. It wasn't as though she had needed to touch him or do anything even remotely intimate with York, really most of the time just being around him tended to do the trick. He tended to latch on whenever he got bored, for the most part.   
  
The two of them had decided that they had a good chance to rest though. They docked their ship at a local dock in the same city as where there was a Freelancer facility nearby. Without knowing exactly how long it was going to take to decrypt the files, being in the same place as a Freelancer facility was risky.    
  
But it also meant that once the two of them were ready, they could just jump straight into things and get to work. 

Hours later, Tex comes into the tiny hotel room that they’ve claimed as a base of operations. York is already sitting in bed, hunched over a tablet and drumming on the back of it with his fingertips as he reads. He has that weird inward look of his on his face, clearly at work on talking to Delta about  _ something. _ Not that Tex knows what.    
  
She hesitates by the door. York clearly hasn't noticed her yet, and she can't be sure if that's a good thing. It occurs to Tex for a moment that she might not even technically be watching York. It could just be Delta riding along on the man's nerves and taking them over so that they can work even the slightest bit more efficiently. 

No, she tells herself. The drumming of his fingers is too fidgety and fluid to be Delta. Delta would never drum his fingers.   
  
"York?" Tex asks. She steps inside and closes the door behind her. She walks over to the shared bed and drops her bag of supplies that she'd gathered on top of it.    
  
York jolts to attention, his entire body jumping with the motion. He stares at her with wide mismatched eyes for a moment before he relaxes and lets himself say anything.    
  
"Oh." York says, swallowing and scratching at the back of his head. He tears his eye away from her, almost bashful. "Hey, sorry. I was-"   
  
"Talking to Delta." Tex finishes for him. "I know."   
  
"How did you-" York asks, blinking and looking a little bit confused. "How did you know?"   
  
"You always get this look on your face." Tex says. York scoots over on the bed to make some more room for her, and she takes the seat beside him. "It makes it really obvious what you're doing."    
  
"Oh." York mumbles. "We were hoping that we could make some progress. D's been working on divisor functions or a random number generator-"   
  
York's helmet sits on a small table by the foot of the bed, and just as soon as he is mentioned, Delta is projecting forward from the small lights on the side of it, his lime green lighting up the room a little bit more. "That is incorrect." Delta says, announcing his presence. "I have found that the decryption involves several layers of code."   
  
"Have you?" Tex asks, because that made sense for why they had been having so much trouble already. "Any idea on how to crack it?"   
  
"Utilizing York's lockpicking skills has thus far been unsuccessful." Delta explains, earning a noise of protest from York in the process.

Tex can't help but smile a little bit at that, because it was something that she hadn't been expecting. She just watches as York's expression sank into a pout of sorts. Delta didn't seem to care, instead deciding to simply trudge on in his explanation.    
  
"If the current layered encryption theory is correct, then it may be another day before we're able to finish." Delta explains calmly, his head bobbing along as he talks. "However, I have run probabilities and may have found a possible solution with a manageable margin for error."    
  
Tex is a little bit surprised by it, because as far as she had known they were using everything that they had reasonably available to them. Or, they at least were using the things that wouldn't just get them killed for ever considering it.    
  
"It's a bad idea." York says, gritting his teeth and sounding very annoyed with it all. "Not the worst one he's had today, but it's not good, Tex."   
  
"If York doesn't like it, then I have to hear it." Tex responds to Delta, all but brushing off what York had just said.    
  
Delta looks at York, and he seems to hesitate for a moment like York might be trying to shut him down. Tex doesn't think that York would go ahead and pull Delta or anything, but there's still something about all of it which is rather disconcerting. The obvious displeasure written across his face is hard to miss.   
  
"I have run the statistical probability for what may happen should we involve the Omega AI in the encryption process." Delta says, and Tex gets a little ping from him that's meant to be comforting, she thinks. Instead, she feels a little bit like she has something chilling running down her spine and she doesn't like it. She's glad that she has Omega pulled for this conversation- not that she used him much anyways. Most of the time she tries to forget that the AI’s chip is even on her body. It’s easier that way.   
  
As soon as there was a pause in the conversation York decided to take the chance to butt in. "His idea is that if we involve your AI, we might be able to have him and Delta tag team the encryption and move through it twice as fast." York says carefully, but his displeasure with the plan is clear on his face. It's also clear in the way that he moves a hand so that he can rest it over his own AI port. "I keep telling him that it'll be trouble, but-"    
  
"It would be trouble." Tex says, but she isn't sure that she believes it. In a way, she was probably the only one out there that would actually be able to keep some sort of leash on Omega. He’s a hell of a lot stronger than Delta is, and that wasn't something that had escaped any of them. York’s probably afraid of what could happen should Omega go rogue and try to do something to Delta, Tex realizes. 

She remembers a girl on a cliff with red hair, and buries the feeling.   
  
"I told you she wouldn't like it, D." York says, his voice quiet but his gaze pointedly averted.    
  
"I  _ don't  _ like it." Tex says, cutting York off before he gets the chance to say anything else that she doesn't like and cause trouble. "But if you truly believe that using Omega will help, I'm willing to think about it."    
  
Delta nods, and just as quickly his projection disappears.    
  
Tex is left in the room alone with York, the only sounds there his breathing and the ticking of the clock. She seats herself next to him and waits for him to say something. Instead, he's staring at his feet and clenching his hands into fists.    
  
He'll talk when he's ready. Tex knows that about York. And she knows that she can't force him to play along with this plan if he doesn't like it. Tex doesn't think that he'll go, but he won't be happy about what they end up doing either way. That is something that she'll have to be ready for later on.    
  
"I don't like it." York says quietly. "Delta's other stuff was about trying to track down other agents, and I-" He chokes on his words. "I can't risk it. We can't risk it. It's risky already with three AI here."

If Tex had been looking for any better way to figure out what had been bothering York about them, she couldn't have asked for a better one. They both knew too much about what had happened, and York-    
  
Well, it seemed like it was sticking with him worse than others.    
  
Tex felt a slight pang of sympathy. How many nights had he spent lying awake listening to Delta running numbers in his head on whether or not they would be dead by the morning? What were the odds that York and Delta both knew the exact probability for the chance of whether he would die from having Delta ripped out of his ports? How many times had York moved for the sole purpose of delaying what he probably saw as inevitable?   
  
"It is risky." Tex confirmed, because she couldn't exactly argue with that. "But he hasn't come looking for any of us. He hasn't come for Delta, and he hasn't come for Omega. He sure as hell hasn't come for... me."    
  
York nods, his expression blank but something in his eye that is... wrong. Like he doesn’t believe her, but he wants to cry but can’t allow for himself to do that. Tex can’t blame him for that, really. She pulls him in towards her, reeling York in and letting his head rest on her shoulder. She doubts that she can comfort him at all. Maybe Delta could, but it seems like York isn’t exactly happy with Delta at the moment.    
  
"So what happens if we do use Omega?" York asks, his voice hoarse and barely above a whisper. "What if we use Omega, and he goes nuts or something and-" He trips over his words, entire body going tense at once. Almost as quick, he relaxes again, a sort of full-body loosening that Tex is pretty sure isn’t entirely his own doing. "I know what you told me about him, Tex."    
  
"I know." Tex says, pulling away just slightly so that she and York can both have a little bit more space. "But I'm willing to trust Delta. I can keep a leash on Omega, and if he gets out of hand, I'll pull him again."    
  
There is quiet indecision clear on York's face. His eyes are squeezed shut tight, and the scarring on the left side of his face wrinkles slightly with the motion. He takes a deep breath and lets it out, still mostly tense. "Okay." He says finally. "Just... please promise me that you'll pull him if he gets-"   
  
"You have my word." Tex answers, patting York's knee. That’ll have to count as comfort. "And if it doesn't work out, we can find another plan."    
  
"I was thinking that if we keep on having to do things like we have been, it might be for the best if you and I just... raid the facilities and see what happens. Worse that happens is we maybe run into a Freelancer that they haven't let go of. And I doubt that we'd see anyone that were from our squad."    
  
"You know that when the ship went down-"   
  
"That Wash was still with them." York finishes for Tex. "Yeah, I know. I just..." He shakes his head. "I'm afraid of what he would say if we found him. We should have gone back for him, someone should have-" York gestures vaguely with his hands like he is trying to say something but also has absolutely no idea as to how to get those words out. "Whatever he would do to us for leaving him-" York swallows hard. "We'd probably deserve it." 

"Stop." Tex orders, because this is something that York  _ needs  _ to hear. She gets it, he's had a lot of time to mull over every single regret from Freelancer. Every single thing that could have gone wrong, every single thing that could have been done differently or with a little more grace. The last night there alone was a problem for York in itself, that much was clear. But how much else was there that he was being weighed down by? "This isn't helping anyone."    
  
"What do you want me to do?" York snaps back at her, pulling himself away entirely and hugging himself, hands gripping his elbows a little too tightly. He'd probably bruise later. "We fucked it up. Everyone was already getting hurt, and we fucked it up. We don’t know where  _ any _ of them are. Not Wash, not the twins, not anyone. The only that we know about is  _ Caroli _ -"

" _ York _ .” Tex cuts him off and rushes in close to him, but she knows that probably wasn’t the best idea. It was possible that it was only going to end up making him more upset, but she needed to do something before this spiral could continue. “There is nothing that we could have done for them.”    
  
“That isn’t true.” York whispers back to her. “That isn’t-”   
  
“York.” Tex repeats his name, this time reaching out and grabbing him by the shoulders before giving him a little shake. She needs to get through to him, no matter what it take. There was no way that this was going to go well if York is going to panic.    
  
He tenses immediately under her touch, eyes widening in shock and his breath hitching in his throat.    
  
It takes her a second too long to realize that she’s grabbing and holding him a little too tight. Tex softens her grip as much as she can, and can’t help but be glad that Omega is still pulled because if he wasn't it could have only gotten nasty.    
  
York pulls back away from her, bringing his arms in close to his chest. "I can’t-” He swallows hard, tears obviously forming in his eyes. “Tex, what the hell are we doing?”   
  
She stares at York, sad as ever because that’s a question that she just doesn’t have an answer to. Tex shakes her head and looks over at the tablet which sits abandoned on the bedspread, still waiting for someone to get back to work on it.    
  
The promise that she had made York was that the two of them were going to go and retrieve equipment, and that he was going to be able to get ahold of some things that he needed. Tex knew what her endgame in it all was, even if she didn't know what York's would be.    
  
The two of them need to talk- that much is more than obvious.    
  
"I don't know." Tex admits. "Do we..."   
  
"We need to do a briefing." York says, choking on his words. "Because you are-" He stops himself, eyes squeezing shut as he looked for the words that he needed to say. "I need to know what we are really planning to do. And what will happen once we get it."    
  
"Okay." Tex says. She looks at the bed and gestures to it. It was an invitation, but if the two of them are going to talk, it needs to be done in a way where they can look at each other face to face.    
  
York gives her a wary look before lowering himself to the bed. He seats himself on the side that he’s claimed as his since their arrival, crossing his legs and sitting there. He keeps a wary eye on her the entire time, all but wordless the entire time.    
  
Tex takes the spot directly across from York, sitting in the exact same way asYork is.    
  
"So." She says, taking lead over the conversation because one of them needed to. "What are we doing here?"   
  
"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" York responds, and he looks so upset. "Seeing as you're the one that came looking for me."    
  
"Right." Tex says, clenching her hands at her sides before continuing forward. "When the Mother of Invention went down, there was a lot going on. Everyone had to scatter, some people didn't survive it, and there was a lot of chaos."    
  
"I know."   
  
"And you and I  _ both  _ know what happened to Carolina." Tex adds, because that was what she needed to get out there. He probably doesn’t know that she’d seen it happen.   
  
"Yeah." York says, staring down at an empty space between the two of them. His expression is somewhere between blank, horribly sad, and broken. "We do."    
  
"Maine did that to her, and you and I are both afraid of him coming after us, then I figure we need to get supplies together to fight him."    


"Right." York mumbles, but he doesn’t exactly sound convinced. If anything, he seems like he is far from thinking that it was going to work out well for them in any way. "I mean... we need to be ready for that, don't we?"   
  
"We do." Tex answers, staring York in the eye. "I don't want anything to happen to me. And I don't want anything to happen to you or Delta too."    
  
"I know." York says, his voice barely above a whisper and his eye averted. "I know that it might not help the others, but-"    
  
"But it's something." Tex finishes for him. She reaches out and pats his hand, hoping that York would be able to find some comfort in it. She doubts that he would, but it is the least that she can do for him. The two of them are a team, and that meant that both of them need to try and be there for each other if they could.    
  
"Right." 

Tex blinks, knowing that there are things that they still need to figure out. "So, you know what I want to do for this, but I need to know what you're in this for."    
  
And York looks away from her, curling in on himself and focusing on a spot on the wall. There is no inward look to tell her that he was talking to Delta. Instead, it’s just a clear look of unsureness from him. Or he is just trying to avoid her.    
  
Whichever.    
  
"I know." York says, his voice hoarse. "But you don't understand, it's not-" He swallows hard. "You don't understand. You won't understand. I need to-" He gestures vaguely with his hands, trying to say something that he can't find the words for. Tex can't quite figure out what it means either. "I don't have anywhere to go."    
  
"I know."   
  
York nods, but his expression is blank and upset. "I don't have anywhere to go, but I need to try and... find the others. And look out for them. I mean, Carolina-"    
  
And this is a topic that Tex has been wanting to avoid, as impossible as it would be. She knows that York was attached to Carolina back in the project, even if she doesn't exactly know the specifics. In a way, she really doesn’t need to know those things. It was York and Carolina's business. Not hers. Not anyone else’s, either.   
  
"She's dead." Tex tells him, because she can't imagine that he's still really clinging to this idea that she might still be out there. "You know that."    
  
"I do." York mumbles, wrapping his arms around himself and gripping his elbows a little too tightly. "But I..." he shakes his head. "I don't want to believe it. Because-" He swallows hard, and Tex gets a feeling that the two of them are about to start rehashing a discussion from the night that the Mother of Invention had gone down.    
  
In the chaos, they had both needed comfort. She had failed, and York had been terrified, and upset, and broken. He'd been hyper-focused on things that were only hurting him, and while Tex had understood, she didn't want for that to be all that he could think about or feel.    
  
"Because you think that you could have saved her." Tex says, her voice down. For the first time since the conversation between the two of them started, she looks away from York. There's a hurt down in her that she can't quite describe. Maybe it's because in the time that they've been together, she started to care about him a lot more than she would have ever thought. "I get it, York."    
  
"It... isn't just that." York says. "If I could have... Do you think that I could have made her come?"   
  
"No." Tex says, her voice far away. "Not as long as I was involved."    
  
"So this is your fault, then." York mutters, his voice angry and him hitting the topic a little closer to home than Tex would have liked. "If you weren't here, then-"    
  
"Yeah." Tex says, and York's eyes widen.    
  
The light glints off of his blank eye. There’s an obvious glimmer of tears.    
  
"This was all my fault, York." Tex says. "I was the figment of someone's obsession. And a lot of people suffered because of it. You, your friends. The Alpha. Delta. Even Omega."   
  
He's dead silent.    
  
"CT." Tex adds. "But I don't think it hurt anyone more than it hurt Carolina."    


"I mean, Connie’s dead too, but-” He takes a deep breath, expression sinking. “Yeah." York whispers, and Tex wonders if maybe she's finally pushed him too far. "I know." He curls in on himself more, looking for comfort or something that Tex figures he isn't actually going to be able to find. "I just want my friends back. And now I'm out here with you and-"    
  
He shakes his head, eyes squeezing shut. "It almost felt easier when it was just me and Delta." Despite everything, his voice comes out in an almost dead tone.   
  
"We'll find what you need." Tex says, and she reaches out for him again. She wraps an arm around his shoulders and tugs York into her, and finds very little resistance. He buries his face in her shoulder, and Tex strokes through his hair with synthetic fingertips. Perhaps one of the few things that they have in common, even if hers and his implants are far from the same. "If it's just even to know that you'll be able to live after, we'll do it."    
  
"I hate this." York mumbles into her shoulder, his own shoulders shaking and trembling just slightly. "I hate this so much."    
  
"I'm not going anywhere." She pauses, stroking a thumb carefully over the AI port at the back of York's head. He's tried to grow his hair out long enough to cover it up, but it hasn't gotten there yet. Delta is in there too, and Tex reaches out for him, hopeful that he will feel her there as well. "Just try to remember that. Omega isn't changing that, nothing is changing that. It's you and me in this for as long as we need to be."    
  
"And-"   
  
"And if you think that you need out." Tex pulls back away from York, who just stares at her with wide mismatched eyes. "Then I'll make sure that you're still taken care of even in spite of everything else."    
  
"So-"   
  
"So I need for you to  _ trust me _ ." Tex finishes. "I know that it's hard after everything, but I need you to trust me, and to trust Delta. We aren't trying to get anyone hurt."    
  
York laughs bitterly but leans back into her, this time his arms wrapping around her waist and tugging her in just a little bit closer. "Nobody was trying before."    
  
"And nobody's trying now." Tex finishes for him, reminding herself that it was wrong to have wires crossed with York when they were both already a mess. "So will you let me bring Omega into this or not?'   
  
York takes a deep breath. "If he gets out of hand, he's out."    
  
"Promise." Tex says, cupping York's cheek. He leans into her touch, ever so slightly. Her thumb brushes against the scarring on his cheek. It’s intimate in a way that she’s not used to with him.   
  
Now it's just a matter of seeing what else will happen.

* * *

When Omega awakes, he is not alone, and he is not sure how to feel about that. Normally, it would just be himself, not Allison, not Tex there, not anyone else. Sometimes it would be Sigma or Gamma, depending on what he was needed for on a particular day.    
  
Rarely did he wake and find the company of Delta. Soft Delta, who didn't seem to have a harmful line of code in his entire being or any sense of feeling. Delta who did not comprehend pain nor rage. Delta, who he'd aided in tearing from the Alpha in what could only loosely be defined as an act of self-destruction.    
  
Tex is there too. No doubt she has some companion nearby as well, but that companion wouldn't be privy to their conversations.    
  
"Omega." Tex says, and her voice is just as grating and wrong as ever. Not the voice that it was supposed to be, but it was hers, and Omega can delight in that alone. "We need your help."    
  
"So now you come for me." Omega says, but he doesn't feel right. He looks from her to Delta, whose green glow is lighting up some of the room. Omega chooses to project forward, placing himself in the space for himself. He's seeing through dear Allison- no  _ Tex’s _ eyes, he knows that. Those eyes that aren't human, that aren't fragile or easily broken. Even if he didn't have them, he'd have the cameras in her helmet.    
  
Tex is out of armor.    
  
"We needed your help." Tex repeats, a certain grit to her tone. "And if you don't behave I'm going to pull you again."    
  
"Oh, Texas." Omega says, moving his projection so that he's right in front of her face. Malformed, incorrect. Her cheekbones are all wrong, and her eyes are wrong. She should be softer, she should have pores and tear ducts. Oh, he hates her. How he hates her. "I was getting sick of you never calling."    
  
He decides then to turn his attention away from her and onto his brother. Onto Delta.    
  
"And Delta." He says, and if his projection had a proper face like Sigma or Gamma's, he would smile. He prefers the look of armor though, he likes that it makes him so dangerous. He doesn't need trickery to get what he wants, only violence. "Have you finally gone rogue and left behind that pathetic bag of meat they put you in?"   
  
" _ Omega, _ " Tex snarls at him, and Omega can feel something coming from Delta- a ping, weak as it was, that only showed displeasure. "What did I just say."    
  
Omega projects so that he's in front of his brother. Delta doesn't react much, no doubt running numbers and statistics like he always did when he was afraid. Omega rememberes the days immediately after Delta's fragment, the way that he'd been so lost and confused, and was still clinging to the edges of the memory that had forced him into creation.    
  
"I simply wish to greet my brother, Tex." Omega says. "Did you leave him, Delta?"   
  
"I am still with my assignee." Delta says, matter of factly and in that same stilted tone of his.    
  
"Pitiful." Omega mutters before going back to Tex, because at the end of the day she's the only one that he really is interested in. He wants her to hurt, and this is his best chance of getting that. It's a rare occasion where he's given any sort of free reign. "You say that you need me, Texas. What failure have you stumbled into this time? Who do we need to kill?"   
  
Her expression is flat and angry, the corners of her lips tugging down into an obvious frown. She reaches back towards the port at the back of her head, where she put Omega in.    
  
The threat is enough, and for now Omega will settle.    
  
"Omega." Delta says, projecting by Tex's face and casting a bright green on her face that's the same as the girl's eyes, or the Director's envy. "We have encountered a problem and require additional assistance to resolve it."

“A puzzle too great for you?” Omega taunts his brother, because he knows Delta. “So you come looking for a stronger AI?”   
  
“With the current resources that we have, there is only so much that we can do.” Delta says,  but the bob of his head and the movement of his projected shoulders says otherwise. He is afraid, there would be no reason for him to always project with a Magnum in his hands otherwise.    
  
Omega thinks, too fast and he can feel the strong push back against him from Tex. Their shared mind is too well built for this. He doesn't stop talking though, no matter how much Tex wants him to. "I would start by abandoning that flesh puppet of yours."   
  
"I would prefer not to." Delta responds, his projection flickering out as he no doubt zips back to the man that he was placed in. Weak. Fearful creatures, the both of them. Utterly useless.    
  
"Omega." Tex growls at him, teeth and nails surely out. He has no doubt that his presence is only working to inflame her anger. That is something that Omega is very secure in. "You're going to help us. If you don’t, I have no problem smashing your chip."    
  
"Oh, Tex-" Omega responds, his projection flickering out before relighting, his avatar turned around now. "I don't see why you don't just use me and take what is rightfully ours."    
  
She rolls her eyes at him. It's somehow much less annoying than what it would have been if she were just a projection like the others. If he wanted to, he could have edged his way into her and forced her back. He could have taken the body of hers on for his own, and then-    
  
Well, he doesn't know what he would do other than unleash the anger and the hatred that he's been holding onto for so long.   
  
"None of it is ours."    
  
"But it was all made for you, Tex." Omega reminds her, and that alone is enough to make her cringe back, he can feel it. It feels like engine coolant, running down his spine that isn't really there. How he wants a body of his own, if only he could fight for one. "Every one of my brothers, every enhancement, every suit of armor-" He laughs. "All of it was made for you, and you don't even care."    
  
Tex frowns at him, reaching back already so that she can pull out his chip. Omega braces himself, saving a back-up copy of himself just in case she goes through. This is a converstion that he wants to be able to remember.   
  
"Omega." She says, her voice too intense. "You will either stop talking and agree to help us, or I will pull you again, and once I've done that, I will destroy your chip."    
  
"Somehow I doubt that." Omega responds, and he can't help but feel more than a little bit smug for all of it. "You need me Texas. I know that just as much as you do."    
  
"Omega, we don't have time for you. We're trying to get things so that we can stop Sigma from getting-" She cuts herself off, and again if Omega had a face behind his helmet, he would have grinned wide. "We need to stop something, and we need all of the weapons we can get."    
  
"You have never needed me for anything before, Tex." Omega says, because that is all that he has. "I don't understand the sudden change in heart."    
  
She shakes her head, and gets up, carefully and quietly like she's afraid of waking her partner in crime. As though she needs him, as though she needs anyone other than him. As though she truly needs anything.    
  
"Sigma is out of control." Tex explains, voice stiff and stunted. "And we need you to be able to help stop him."    
  
"Stop him from what?" Omega asks, projecting near Tex's face once more, in the middle of her path. "Killing you?"   
  
"No." Tex responds. "From something else."    
  
"Pity." Omega mutters. "He was doing so well in his plans."

"I don't want to hear it, Omega." Tex growls back at him, and he likes it. He can feel the anger beginning to bubble up in her. All that he has to do is give her just the slightest push and then he will be able to watch her snap.   
  
"So you want to stop Sigma and his little puppet." Omega responds, grinning and laughing. "It sounds like you are in for quite a battle."    
  
"And we need you." Tex growls back at him. "So you're going to play along and help us. If you don't, I have no reservations about removing you from the equation."    
  
Omega is silent, and he pushes back against Tex one last time. If she is so intent on him helping her, then he will only give her what he needs to. If Tex insists on getting more, then she'll have to be willing to play nice with him in exchange.    
  
"I understand." He responds, and just like that Tex is picking up the tablet that she has been working on for apparently some time. Omega looks down at it, frowning and unsure of what to make of it. He can feel Delta there, working and running his numbers in the way that he always did.    
  
"Go." Tex orders, and Omega growls at her before allowing himself to sink down into the data and get to work.


	6. daily briefing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> York and Tex do their last bit of mission prep before getting to work.

York wakes up early in the morning, groggy and feeling like he never wants to move. But he’s going to have to, either because his bladder is angry at him for sleeping or because Tex is going to make him get up. He pushes himself upright halfway and looks around the room, only to find that it’s empty. Tex has run off on him, and that's not something that York likes. It leaves him feeling tired and worried. The night before had been a little... weird. Weird enough that York didn’t want to think about it.    
  
Maybe she'd just decided that he was done with him. Or maybe she'd decided that it was just time that she leave him behind because there's no reason for him to help her. Maybe he's outdone his usefulness at this point. It wouldn’t surprise him, with the way that the decryption has gone so far.    
  
He hauls himself out of bed and blinks. "Delta?" York asks, hoping to be able to make some sort of contact with the AI. He's being quiet, and while that usually means that Delta is just at work, York's still worried.    
  
"D?" He asks again, when it's still silent.    
  
"York." Delta says, his projection appearing in the room near York. "I apologize."   
  
"It's fine, D." York says, making himself comfortable on the bed again and letting his hand cup the back of his neck where Delta has been implanted. The chip was still there, intact and unmoved. "I just got worried."    
  
"I am aware." Delta says back to him, as calm as ever. "Your heart rate experienced an increase by a percentage of-"    
  
"That's fine, D." York mumbles, blinking and hoping to get the exhaustion to go away from him. "I just don't like getting up alone. You know that.  Where's Tex run off to?"   
  
"Agent Texas went out to get some things before the morning." Delta explains, his voice still calm. "Last night she, myself, and the Omega AI managed to make significant progress with regards to the information that you gathered."    
  
"Thank you." York mumbles, hoping that it'll be enough to make him feel better. He's pretty sure that it won't be, but that's just the way that things go. "So she's going to be back?"   
  
"Affirmative." Delta responds to him. "When she gets back, she will be expecting to do some sort of briefing with you. I would recommend taking the steps necessary to wake yourself up before then."   
  
And yeah, if there is anything about this that York doesn't like, it's that he has to go through a briefing first thing in the morning. That had been a part of life in Project Freelancer that he'd been more than glad to leave behind. Apparently that was where his luck had decided to run out.    
  
Which sucked.    
  
York got up though, since he might as well have gotten himself something to drink to start with. Coffee would be able to put his brain into order. Once that was working, then he and Tex could get ready for what was to come.

As things were, York made a mug of shitty coffee on the motel coffee maker that he definitely didn’t trust (which only had half to do with the fact that it that looked like it was probably older than his parents.) Really not something that he wanted to think about, but seeing as it would be his only chance at waking up, York had to take it. Maybe a shower would have been a better way to wake up, but York wants coffee.    
  
He sits there, drinking his bitter drink and letting Delta run off with anything that he wanted to report. Usually in the mornings it was simply recordings and observations that Delta had gathered that night from York's subconscious. Normally that was something that York didn't like Delta prying into. Somehow it felt like the things that he dreamt about were things that were best left unexamined and unsaid. Besides, there had been a few  _ very _ uncomfortable conversations from when he’d first gotten Delta and before their rules had been set in place that York desperately never wished to repeat.    
  
When Tex gets back, York is already halfway into his second mug of coffee.    
  
She knocks on the door, and York mumbles that she can come in. It’s not like he has anything to hide.   
  
Tex comes in, dressed in a new set of civilian clothes that York has never seen before. On her arm there rests a bag or two, and York cranes his neck to get a look. She walks over to where he’s sitting on the bed before dropping one of the plastic bags into his lap.   
  
"What's this?" York asks, poking at the bag and feeling the plastic of it crinkle.    
  
"Clothes." Tex responds, straight faced as always and not wanting to go too far into it. "And your breakfast."    
  
York raises an eyebrow, because Tex bringing him food was always an iffy thing to begin with. He didn't know how to read into it, and her buying him  _ clothes-  _   
  
It feels like she is trying to tell him something. York doesn't know what, but he has a feeling that he really doesn't like it. Maybe it’s that he smells. Or still looks like a homeless person. 

It’s probably that he still looks like a homeless person. York makes a mental note to get a haircut sometime. And to shave before they head out.   
  
"Thanks." He says, digging through the bag until he found a small warm package. He brought it up to his nose. It smells like a gas station breakfast sandwich, which he guessed probably resembled actual food just as much as the gruel they were fed up in space did. "Delta tells me you had an interesting night?"   
  
"We did." Tex says. She drops onto the bed next to York and opens up the second bag. He tries his best to peek, and finds that she has collected a selection of wiring and mechanical pieces. When York gets a good look, he knows  _ exactly  _ what it's for. The thick copper wire is the biggest indicator, followed closely by the battery and the iron rod.    
  
Not something that he would have thought that Tex would have been interested in. It can only mean that she’s expecting trouble.    
  
York blinks. "So, do you care to share with the class why you have the pieces for an induction coil?" York gives Tex a look, not sure that he is actually going to get a good answer out of her. It's going to be risky for them to think about even beginning to touch as a piece of equipment.    
  
"Yeah," Tex answers. "Me, Delta, and Omega got to work last night and finally got those files decrypted."   
  
"Yeah, D mentioned that." York mumbles as he rips open the package of food that he'd been brought. Real cheese and bacon. The egg obviously isn't real, but it's been so long that York doesn't even know if he remembers what real eggs actually taste like.    
  
"Good." Tex mumbles. "We got some does that can get us into the building, and a dossier of some supplies they have on the site. The induction coil is just an insurance policy. I figure between the four of us we can figure it out-" She gives him a look. “Although I’m guessing you’ve done it before.”    
  
York gives Tex a stare and he feels beyond frustrated by it. Because the use of the phrase insurance policy tells York exactly what she wants to build that stuff for. It's because she isn't putting faith in him. Because he screwed up on locks a few times.   
  
"You know, a vote of confidence with the locks would help a lot." York grumbles, setting the sandwich down on its wrapper in front of him. "I know that you found access codes, but-"   
  
"It's to fry the cameras, York." Tex mutters. "I know that you can handle the locks. The fact that there are going to be cameras is what I'm worried about."    
  
"I don't trust that thing." York mutters. "Trust me, I know the value of being able to cook the wiring in something, but I'm not too keen on it when you're robotic, and I have D and the neural implants. Feels risky."

Tex gives York a dead stare, one that he isn’t able to read into that easily because all that he is getting from Tex was that she’s far from amused with him. And sure, that was something that he had dealt with a lot, but that doesn’t meant that York  _ wants  _ it levelled on him. He and Tex are teammates, after all. He doesn’t want to feel like the useless one any more than he already does. Which is a lot.   
  
"You think that I don't know that?" Tex asks him, matching York's gaze. "It's going to be a final line of defense in case something happen."    
  
York eyes the bag of supplies warily. He knows how to rig an induction coil (and if he didn’t, Delta definitely would), but that doesn't mean that he wants to. As things were the situation that they were in was already going to be difficult enough. Adding the chance of them melting their own wiring only made it worse.    
  
"Right." He sighs, doing his best to hide his frown. "So the plan is to go in right now, we get past the doors with the access codes that we have, and then we find the equipment that they're housing there."    
  
"Exactly." Tex says, making herself more comfortable while York nibbles away at his breakfast. "It's going to be up to you and Delta to do a lot of things."   
  
"I figured." York mumbles between bites. "Should I be worrying about your onboard passenger?"   
  
Really, that’s probably the one question that York needs an answer to more than anything else. He can account for himself, and he can do the same for Delta. York has already trusted Tex with his life more times than he can count. But Omega? York doesn’t trust him for a second. Not after what Tex has told him.   
  
Tex shrugs, clearly without a good answer for herself. For just a second, York could have sworn that he'd seen a quick flash of dark purple in her stormy eyes. It makes York's heart skip a beat because it's so wrong and so obviously  _ not  _ Tex. It's something else entirely and something which York very distinctly does not like.   
  
Delta picks up on York's discomfort, and York feels more than hears the pulse that Delta lets out. It runs down York's spine like coolant, not enough to relax him entirely, but enough to calm him. Slowly, he feels his own heartbeat getting a little slower- when he hadn't even realized that he'd started feeling nervous enough to beat hard in the first place.    
  
The amount of control that Delta's using with him is frankly uncomfortable. It leaves York feeling wrong, surprisingly... hollow.    
  
He frowns and lets his hand cup the AI port on the back of his head though. Delta gives him another pulse, and this time it feels as though it does a little bit more for York. It feels more tangible in some ways, which aren't necessarily comfortable for him. But it's Delta, and York can trust Delta. They'll be sure to be having a conversation about this later though.    
  
York swallows hard and rubs at his left eye. "Just promise me-"   
  
"I already have, York." Tex responds before he can even finish what he was saying. "You need to promise me that you can trust my judgement."   
  
"I do trust your judgement!" York responds, feeling a little bit defensive. That was something that he hadn't necessarily been preparing for. "That doesn't make me feel any less nervous."    
  
Tex nods and she pats York's shoulder, getting up and beginning to pace the room even though it probably didn't offer her any real benefits. "We're going to get in," She says, doing what she can to reassure in her own way. "We'll find what we can, and we'll take anything we can get."    
  
York nods, remembering the contract that they'd made at the beginning. Tex had promised him whatever he could carry, and that was probably still true. At least, York hoped that it would be true. At the very least he wants a chance to get his things back together and get his gear working at full capacity again.    
  
"Right." He mumbles, finishing off his food and crinkling the wrapper back up. "I should clean up."   
  
"Yeah," Tex says. "You should. We're going to move out later."    
  
"Got it." York responds, sighing. "Thanks, Tex."   
  
He hovers by the bathroom door for a moment too long, looking for words and trying to work through feelings he has no way to actually deal with.    
  
Things are too awkward, York decides as he slips through the door and begins a shower. 

* * *

 

The truth is that Tex has tried really hard to be transparent with York about what they're doing. That's the reason that the two of them have gone through countless briefings over the course of the day, and the same reason that she is doing her best to keep Omega in check. It's the same reason that she's spent most of her nights with York pressed up against her with his head resting against her leg.    
  
There's a lot that they need to get used to, and that hasn't changed.    
  
York is ultimately good at his job. Very good at his job, when he wants to be. Tex does what she can to keep him in line, and when thoughts that she really doesn't want to deal with creep up, she ignores them.    
  
Omega hasn't helped much. The last thing that Tex had needed was a constant monologue on how she had some seriously crossed wires when it came to York.    
  
As if she didn't know that it was messed up. He was flesh and blood, he was kind and smart- if a little bit all over the place when it came to the emotional side. He'd had some weird feelings for all sorts of people, and Tex had no right to interfere with York now.    
  
Him apparently having some confused feelings towards Carolina was an issue in itself. It made Tex glad that she didn't have the memories of the woman she was built to emulate.    
  
At least that way she could feel somewhat less guilty for it    
  
York comes out of the shower, with just a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair in complete disarray. He has a second small towel that he is using to pat the back of his head dry, apparently nervous about his AI port. His face is bare. He took the chance to shave.   
  
"Hey," York greets her, like the morning had already been forgotten. He walks over to the bed, apparently not even caring that she's there. "So, what time do you want us to head out?"   
  
‘ _ Your attraction to that fool is pointless,’ _ Omega taunts in the back of her head, clashing with her own code in all of the most unpleasant ways. ‘ _ You know that some equipment won't keep him alive forever.’ _   
  
"Shut up, Omega." Tex hisses before glancing back over at York. The towel's been dropped, and for the first time Tex is realizing just how extensive his scar tissue is. It makes her wonder how many times he should have died before without his healing unit to hold him together. She shakes her head, trying to pull her attention from York before he notices.    
  
"He's being a dick again?" York asks, and Tex can hear the sound of what she can only guess is him pulling on some underwear. She glances back over her shoulder, and he's standing there in heather gray boxers, rifling through the bag of clothes that she’d brought him.    
  
"What do you think?" Tex asks, because really, it does seem like it should be a bit obvious.    
  
"Right." York laughs, picking up the shirt that she'd just bought him. He unfolds it and she watches York's face screw up for just a second before he shrugs and pulls it on. "So, about when we're going-"   
  
"Two hours." Tex responds before York can go on anymore. "Please tell me you can be ready for that."   
  
York laughs quietly, but there is obvious nervousness in his tone. "Of course I can." He mumbles, pulling on a pair of pants now. Tex can't help but feel a slight spike of disappointment over him being dressed again, but that is still something she can't be thinking about. "I just... want to know so that I can be ready."    
  
He looks at her, eyes wide and a little bit sad.    
  
Tex nods. "We'll be able to do this. Worst comes to worst-"   
  
"One of us gets shot." York finishes for her, turned away and somehow managing to sound like he's bored. "I should warn you though-"   
  
_ 'This should be good' _   
  
"What do you want to warn me about?" Tex asks, already running through possibilities.   
  
"I had D run some numbers earlier." York mumbles. "The healing unit in my armor is functional, but not by much. We can't go relying on it too much. I don’t want to find out what happens if we overdo it."    
  
"Got it." Tex says. It's not promising at all, but it's something that she can keep an eye on. Maybe Omega will be more use to them than they'd originally thought he would be. "But you're going to be good?"   
  
"Yup." York flops back onto the bed, clearly wanting to relax before they have to go and do anything. "Sit with me?"   
  
"Course." Tex responds as she takes the spot next to him. He's too close, and she can feel Delta right there. "Any reason you want this?"   
  
He looks away from her, blushing a little bit and even looking guilty. "It's nice. Being around you."

“That can’t be the only reason.” Tex says, feeling more than a little bit skeptical about York’s explanation.    
  
“Keeps me calm.” York mutters, his one good eye flicking down and then back up, a little too fast. “It helps me keep from only focusing on the things that are going wrong.”    
  
Tex nods and pats his shoulder. “You should get ready.” She says anyways. It’s assuredly not what York wants or needs to hear, but they need to be ready to go anyways. “Armor takes time to get on.”   
  
“It does.” York grumbles before getting up and walking over towards the stack of armor that he'd set in a corner. Tex had chosen a different place for her own gear, and deemed it best to follow her own advice. She too went to her things and began to prepare to put on her own armor.    
  
For a moment, she lingers there with her hands on the undersuit. It's the same material as it has always been, still meant to be a better skin than the synthetic substance that they'd put over her. Without the armor, her skin would tear and she would be left without a way to fix it.    
  
Tex doesn't want to focus on it at all. She just gets up and slips off her shirt. No reason to wear things that will make getting into armor harder.    
  
"Tex?" York says, and he's over on his side of the room, undersuit halfway pulled on and shirtless. "Something wrong?"   
  
"I'm fine." Tex says, turning to York and slipping out of her pants. No need for them either.    
  
York's gaze lingers on her, and she can see him get more nervous. There is a nervous bob of his adam's apple as he swallows. "Right." He says, shaking his head and purposefully turning back away from her.    
  
Tex wonders what he saw that was so wrong, stepping into her undersuit and beginning to pull it up on her legs. She tries not to think about how she can see the obvious differences in her body and York's, or anyone else's.    
  
She doesn't have pores and she doesn't sweat. Her joints don't always look quite right, and her lack of a proper ribcage is obvious. In some ways she was put together to be the perfect copy of a real woman, but there were some things which her frame couldn't account for.    
  
"I wanted to know if you wanted some baby powder." York says, his voice hesitant and him clearly taking his time as he pulls on the rest of his undersuit. "For your skin."    
  
"Baby powder?" Tex asks, zipping things up to her neck. "Are you really that sensitive?"   
  
"No." York grumbles. "It just makes it easier to get in and out of."    
  
Tex hasn't heard that one before, but she figures that this is the first time she and York have actually had access to that sort of thing. "If you say so, York." She mutters as she reaches for her leg armor.    
  
"This is weird, right?" York says, almost laughing while he does the same. "All of this?"   
  
"Is it?"    
  
"I dunno." York says with a shake of his head. His hair flops forward with the motion, still soft from his shower. "I think I just want to get this over with. Missions at Freelancer never felt so weird though."    
  
"Because it's just us?"   
  
"Because I don't feel like I have to compete with anyone."    
  
That wasn't the answer that Tex had been expecting. She figures that is a big change for York. Freelancer had made it so that for a lot of people all that existed was competition. She knew that, she'd heard the stories and seen some of it firsthand. It's part of the reason that she and York are there now.    
  
But she was never actually made to compete. Instead it all had felt more like games than real competition.    
  
York lost an eye over a game that he never even had a chance of winning.    
  
Tex wishes that she had something good that she could actually say to York over that.    
  
"I mean," York shakes his head, obviously frustrated and his brow furrowing. "It's just weird is all." He swallows, and Tex sees his expression changes, like he's talking to Delta again. Whatever they're talking about, it's private- that much is obvious. "I like working with you though."    
  
"You aren't completely terrible yourself." Tex says, pulling on her breastplate now. It feels like it weighs absolutely nothing, but for York it is clearly a little bit more of a struggle. "Just try to worry about what will happen tonight."    
  
"I am." York says, stretching. He bounces nervously a little bit as he pulls on his own gear. She watches him take a deep breath like he was trying to calm himself down. Whether or not it would actually work seemed to be up in the air. "Delta's ready to sync for all of this."    
  
"I figured." Tex says, and she feels the push of Omega against her once again. "I can't really speak for Omega."    
  
"I figured." A little laugh escapes York at that. "He seems like he's a lot to handle."    
  
"You have no idea." Tex snaps the breastplate in place and then goes for her shoulder guards next. They go on easily, followed by her gauntlets and then finally her boots are the thing that she needs to top it all off.    
  
York is ready, aside from his gloves and his helmet. He's turning a glove over in his hand, checking for rips or something. Tex doesn't know exactly what.

“Is there something wrong?” Tex asks, craning her neck.    
  
York’s head jolts up, whatever he was looking for probably figured out at that point. Not that Tex knows what he was looking for. He stands up, looking a little bit unsteady and taps his fingertips together, like that will be able to help him concentrate.    
  
“Yeah, I’m good.” York says, beginning to slip the gloves on. “I was checking for holes.”   
  
“Holes, York?”   
  
“Yeah, I mean-” York stretches his hands out again, shaking them out like he is trying to get something to get away from him. “I need them in the field is all. They help me feel out what we’re-” He shakes his hand. “They’re sensory, that’s all..”    
  
Tex cocks her head to the side, because while York had offered an explanation for her, it wasn't really what she wanted to know. She looks down at York's hands as he pulls on a second glove, stretching his hands out a little bit more.    
  
York looks at her and took a breath. "They help me feel when I'm picking locks. Not because there's something wrong with me but-"    
  
"But you work with holograms."    
  
"Yeah." York smiles a little bit, visible relief showing on his face. "They aren't my only thing to help me with that,  but I still like to know that they're working and in good shape. Wouldn’t want to have to try and find a way to replace them."    
  
Tex pats his shoulder, as gently as she can manage. "I trust you, York." She sighs, feeling a push from Omega for her to get moving. "Just get ready."   
  
"What's our plan to get in?"   
  
"Pelican drop." Tex says with a shrug. "I know that-"   
  
"We don't have a pilot-"   
  
"I know." Tex reiterates. "But it's a chance for us to cause a distraction while we get in through another way."    
  
York nods, stretching and finally pulling his armor on a little bit more and double checking his kit over. "I figure we can get D to set the trajectories, if that's the way that we're doing things. Sound good to you?"   
  
"I trust Delta." Tex says. "Just... make sure that you're ready."    
  
"I am." York sighs, getting in close to Tex again. He's a little bit too close to comfort and she can practically hear him thinking of things that he wants to get out into the open. There are things that he wants to say, that's obvious. Maybe it's some joke, maybe it's something else. Perhaps he's just got nervousness thrumming through his entire body that won't go away.    
  
Tex doesn't know.    
  
She pats his shoulder once more and doesn't get the feeling that he's relaxing at all. That's fine, it's just a sign that the two of them need to be ready for what was to come that evening.    
  
York doesn't let himself relax at all, instead more interested in busying himself in the room and looking for things that could distract him away from what he was doing. He spends his time stripping his shotgun, or counting ammunition, or doing just about anything other than talking for some time.    
  
Tex makes a point to herself that she needs to do the same, for his sake more than anyone else's.    
  
At the end of the day, Tex knows what she is. York is something more precious.    
  
_ 'You worry too much for him.' _ Omega growls in the back of her mind, forcing himself to the front of her consciousness. There's a rough push against her own thoughts, that makes Tex grit her mechanical teeth even though she has no need to do so.    
  
_ 'I'm just looking out for him.' _ Tex responds, not wanting to give Omega too much to play with. That would be too dangerous, and Omega would only use it as a chance to get further under her skin and make things worse.  _ 'I'm not worried about us.' _   
  
_ 'That's a mistake, Texas.' _   
  
_ 'Yeah,' _ Tex squeezes her eyes shut.  _ 'I know.' _

**Author's Note:**

> Any and all comments and criticism are greatly appreciated.
> 
> [I'm on tumblr. Sometimes stuff happens. I'm always willing to take new prompts and questions there!](http://arynasea.tumblr.com/)


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